


Office Space for Rent

by definekimjongdae (junhyung)



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - MAMA (Music Video), Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 07:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junhyung/pseuds/definekimjongdae
Summary: The title has nothing to do with anything.-> 1. canon chansoo / 2. cinema au chansoo / 3. uni au sekai / 4. canon baekchen / 5. lukai ft. father-in-law!minseok / 6. hs au baekchen / 7. mama powers au chansoo / 8. hs au sekai / 9. xiuho, layhan, krisyeol, baeksoo, taochen, sekai in various genres





	1. Tell Me I'm the One / chansoo

**Author's Note:**

> this work hosts some of my older exo fics that i've removed from aff. there is one fic per chapter. pairings, genres, warnings, etc will be stated on the title and the notes section of each chapter. fics are neither beta'ed nor have they been altered since the original postings.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted dec '14.
> 
> chansoo, pg, canon, 1500 words.
> 
> summary: chanyeol likes random hug attacks. kyungsoo likes snuggles in bed. chanyeol likes banana pancakes. kyungsoo likes chanyeol.

They say true love means letting the person you love be happy even when you’re not part of that happiness.

So is wanting to be a part of that happiness even when said person is already happy when you’re not in it not considered true love?

It is not seldom that Kyungsoo asks himself this.

Kyungsoo likes Chanyeol.

Loves Chanyeol. A lot.

Loves Chanyeol as in warm hugs and chaste kisses and bed snuggles, not loves Chanyeol as in friendly shoves and inside jokes and all the other things that goes under platonic.

Chanyeol does hug Kyungsoo from time to time. Sometimes it’s so sudden when they’re on stage and Kyungsoo goes stiff before grinning a happy, happy smile. Sometimes it’s when Kyungsoo is preparing for dinner in the kitchen and Chanyeol will snake his arms around Kyungsoo’s middle, swaying Kyungsoo along as Chanyeol looks down at the fried rice in the pan. Other times are more of random big hug attacks that involve Chanyeol dumping his gigantic self above Kyungsoo’s smaller form from the back and Kyungsoo squeaks but doesn’t glare.

Chanyeol doesn’t kiss Kyungsoo. But he does whisper too close to Kyungsoo’s ear that Kyungsoo can feel the warmth of his breath despite the chill of performing on stage in front of millions of fans. Kyungsoo’s eyes go impossibly wide whenever Chanyeol talks to him too excitedly his face gets too close into Kyungsoo’s personal space. It’s a habit that Chanyeol has. Kyungsoo always goes noticeably red and so he steps back almost immediately.

They don’t get much sleeping time as idols. But when it’s a little past twelve and the night is too quiet but all of the channels are only playing horror movies when Kyungsoo tries to find one to lull himself to sleep, he drags himself to Chanyeol’s room. Chanyeol doesn’t look at Kyungsoo, lids perfectly closed and breathing composed, but drags an enveloping arm around Kyungsoo when Kyungsoo slips under Chanyeol’s comforter.

Kyungsoo loves Chanyeol heaps and his insides jump in delight whenever Chanyeol does these things, but Kyungsoo can always find his heart drown in disappointment right after because he knows for sure that he’s not the only one Chanyeol is doing these things to.

Chanyeol is the perfect height for Kris and Kris is the perfect height for Chanyeol. Kris slings his lanky arm around Chanyeol’s shoulders so easily whenever K and M get to promote on one stage and the two towers are standing beside each other.

Chanyeol smiles into Yixing’s neck and corrects Yixing's Korean pronounciation.

Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun by the forearm when they’re trapped in a sea of fans and cameras in airports. Baekhyun throws jokes anywhere he is and Chanyeol laughs wholeheartedly at all of them.

Chanyeol and Jongdae joke around a lot, often with both ending up in a pile of laughter that are too loud and sometimes obnoxious. They throw pillows at each other, stuff feathers and confetti at each other’s faces and charge forward at one another in playful attacks.

Chanyeol ruffles Sehun’s hair and Sehun bathes him with cheeky smiles.

And Kyungsoo scowls internally because he wants Chanyeol to only look at him and do things with him and make him feel special.

Kyungsoo can be kind and joke around too. Kyungsoo is small and petite and gets lost in crowded places too and does actually appreciate a warm guiding hand wrapped around his wrist. And maybe, if Kyungsoo gets just a little bit taller (of course there is still hope), Chanyeol can slip his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders comfortably like Kris always does to Chanyeol. Kyungsoo also–

“What are you thinking?” Chanyeol asks from his cup of vanilla smoothie with huge and innocently blinking eyes.

Kyungsoo looks up briefly from where he’s been staring at the plastic bag from the grocery store next door that is filled with snacks and instant meals the kids have requested for when Kyungsoo decided that the fridge is empty enough for a refill. Chanyeol comes along but isn’t much of a help because he never brings his wallet and Kyungsoo doesn’t have enough money to buy both the members’ requests and the ingredients he needs. Chanyeol has insisted that eating instant food once in a while is not unhealthy. Kyungsoo reminds himself to never regard the words coming out of Chanyeol’s mouth as sensible ever again.

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol and makes to take his untouched cup of iced chocolate. His hand stops to a halt when Chanyeol grabs him gently by the wrist.

“Are you still mad?” Chanyeol bends down in his chair to align his eyes with Kyungsoo’s, his expression going noticeably softer.

Kyungsoo raises his brows. _How do you know?_ Kyungsoo thinks but blurts out instead, “I– I’m not mad.”

“You were mad because I chose to play with Baekhyun and Jongdae instead of watch the latest episode of Reply 1994 with you earlier this afternoon,” Chanyeol says with a pointed look but the upward tug on his lips speaks of warmth.

Kyungsoo frowns and is definitely not pouting. “You promised me that we’d watch it together,” Kyungsoo says as he plays with his fingers agitatedly, stealing a glance at Chanyeol before looking down. “It’s just that, it used to be just the two of us and now there are just so many of us and it feels like you don’t even talk to me anymore,” Kyungsoo says softly, voice almost coming out as a whisper, and ignores the tinge on his cheeks.

Chanyeol chuckles. “We talk everyday, Kyungsoo. Cute,” he exhales and releases his grip from Kyungsoo’s wrist. Kyungsoo jerks slightly when Chanyeol pinches his cheek, looking up almost immediately.

Kyungsoo is not cute. Kyungsoo is manly and has a very stern glare and is definitely not anywhere near cute.

But Kyungsoo finds himself liking the fact that Chanyeol has just said that he’s cute. Chanyeol thinks that Kyungsoo is cute. _Chanyeol_ thinks that _Kyungsoo_ is _cute_. Kyungsoo’s eyes widen significantly.

“I never get mad at you whenever you choose to sit beside Jongin in the dining table or with Tao during movie nights, or when you placed more slices of pork belly on Luhan’s plate than mine,” Chanyeol says, palm warm and resting on Kyungsoo’s cheek and Kyungsoo thinks of how ironic this is. Kyungsoo has always been the frightening one, the one with the stern stare and intimidating glare despite his narrow shoulders. Kyungsoo has always been the one disciplining the kids when Joonmyun can’t stand them anymore. Chanyeol is supposed to be the one with the happy wide eyes and huge grin. Chanyeol is supposed to joke around and make stupid comments and bother Kyungsoo whenever he gets the chance to. Chanyeol isn’t supposed to show how mature he is and how very immature Kyungsoo’s actions are because Kyungsoo is the mature one and he doesn’t understand.

“I don’t treat the rest like the way I treat you,” Kyungsoo chokes out and it’s true. Kyungsoo did spend the entire morning talking to Minseok and pointedly ignoring Chanyeol’s loud laughter and lame jokes. But he also did make Chanyeol his favourite banana pancakes which he clearly knows that Sehun and Jongin like too, but never attend to their begs and whines because Kyungsoo doesn’t simply make banana pancakes for anyone.

Chanyeol’s brows rise in amusement before his expression turns into a comprehensive one. “I don’t treat the others like how I treat you, either,” Chanyeol tells him.

Kyungsoo looks up. “Like what?”

“Like this,” Chanyeol says in a low and soft voice before leaning in and pressing his lips against Kyungsoo’s.

Chanyeol’s lips are slow and warm and soft and Kyungsoo can’t think of an occasion wherein his eyes are wider than they are now. The gentle press on his lips sends butterflies down his throat and into his heart and Kyungsoo only blinks repeatedly at Chanyeol’s closed eyes and the pretty, pretty lashes peeking out of them. Kyungsoo doesn’t lean in and doesn’t back away, body perfectly still as he takes in the feeling of plump lips against his and the gentle press of fingertips on his cheek.

Kyungsoo is still unmoving when Chanyeol pulls away, lids fluttering open and looking down lovingly at Kyungsoo. “Like this,” he repeats, fingers coming up to trace Kyungsoo’s jawline.

It’s not fair. “It’s not fair,” Kyungsoo says before his mind can even process properly. His lips feel weird and Kyungsoo wants to wet them with his tongue, but settles with biting the inside of his cheeks instead.

“You’re not fair,” Chanyeol says and leans in to press another chaste kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips.

Kyungsoo doesn’t exactly still this time. One half of his mind wants to push Chanyeol away because despite the fact the café is almost entirely empty, they’re clearly in public and this is not appropiate. The other half wants to kiss back and just lean in towards Chanyeol’s gentle touches.

Kyungsoo decides on the second. Chanyeol smiles through the kiss.

And Kyungsoo smiles too because Chanyeol thinks that Kyungsoo is special and Kyungsoo is happy with just that.


	2. Love Lasts All Year Round / chansoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted jan '15.
> 
> chanyeol/kyungsoo, pg, cinema au, 3200 words.
> 
> summary: in 2014, to chanyeol who never really bothers about love and whatnots, love comes in the form of wide, curious eyes in spring, familiar presence in summer, cozy nights in fall, and a lifetime worth of love in winter.

In the spring of 2014, Chanyeol finds himself frying french fries for the hundredth day of his life as a cinema employee. Although the job is pretty much repetitive, it doesn't wear that much energy off him and pays more than any 24-hour food chains do. Hours he spends behind cinema counters smiling wide business grins at customers who usually spend at least several minutes chattering amongst themselves over the movie they're going to watch aren't boring as per se, quite thankfully due to the large percentage of maniacs in his working environment. Chanyeol doesn’t consider himself so normal, after all, so he's not complaining.

"There's a new kid. He starts tomorrow," Sehun, the part-time college worker, calls out from where he's messily tying his tie around his neck, a sleepy Jongin dragging himself behind him.

"Looks like he's going to be helping you out," Jongin says, stretching a lazy hand out to bump his fist against Chanyeol's although his lids are half way closed. "I don't know what's so interesting in frying fries and scooping out popcorns. At least interacting with customers won't make you end up talking to nachos on an hourly basis," Jongin says, taking his place behind the ticket counter and glancing at Yixing who seems to be having a really serious conversation with a packet of nachos. "New kid might as well take half of my shift hours so I won't have to spend hours doing my thesis when I really should be sleeping," Jongin mutters audibly and continues to do so even when Sehun mercilessly elbows him to shut up. Jongin sure does talk a lot for someone who sleeps and works at the same time.

"I don't spend my whole shift frying fries. I attend to the customers when you two aren't around, you prick," Chanyeol tells Jongin, pinching his nape jokingly.

Chanyeol meets the new kid the next day. He's rapping a diss at Baekhyun who grumbles into the register, Luhan improvising with continuous 'yo's, when Jongdae returns from where he was having his break at the employee's room, an unfamiliar guy who's around Jongdae's height trailing right behind him, eyes curious and wide.

"This is Kyungsoo," Jongdae introduces with a friendly pat at Kyungsoo's shoulder.

Kyungsoo turns out to be just a few months younger than Chanyeol is, and Chanyeol thinks that Jongin and Sehun shouldn't have called him the 'new kid' since the two of them are technically the kids here. Kyungsoo doesn't talk much. In fact, he almost doesn't talk at all, which is fairly new to the community because Jongdae and Baekhyun talk like they have permanent microphones attached to their mouths and even Zitao, the Chinese who collects tickets in front of the theater rooms with Minseok, knows at most thirty Korean words but talks nonstop whenever Chanyeol joins him for lunch. Chanyeol concludes that Kyungsoo is the first normal person to ever work with them thus far.

"So what you want to do is fry two scoops of fries for every french fries ordered," Chanyeol explains and feels unnecessarily dumb because how does one even explain on how to fry fries?

Kyungsoo gives a few silent nods and actually does a better job than Chanyeol does, which is weird and slightly embarrassing because Chanyeol has been doing this for months now and how does one even fry better fries than another when frying fries is just, well, frying fries?

"You're doing a really good job," Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo from where he's registering a customer's order.

Kyungsoo doesn't turn to face Chanyeol. "Anyone can fry fries," he says after a moment, ears going noticeably red and Chanyeol feels the corners of his lips tug into a smile.

In the spring of 2014, Chanyeol finds his heart leap at wide eyes and squishy cheeks that tinge with red.

-

In the summer of 2014, Chanyeol gives away his morning to afternoon shifts to Yifan and Luhan and continues working the ticketings with Baekhyun when Jongin and Sehun aren't around. Kyungsoo settles on dealing with fries and popcorns, sometimes helping Jongdae and Joonmyun out with drink orders, just never the nachos.

"I'd end up finishing all of the nachos if I ever get less than a metre away from them," Kyungsoo says when Chanyeol asks him to why he always leaves orders on nachos to Yixing. Chanyeol thinks that it's cute but doesn't voice it out loud, instead brushing his hand against Kyungsoo's smaller one.

Kyungsoo lives a station away from Chanyeol's house, and some days they cross path on their way to the cinema. Chanyeol waves a 'hey!' at Kyungsoo before bouncing over. Kyungsoo turns when Chanyeol calls out his name, brows knitted and eyes squinting under the blinding summer sun.

Chanyeol lets out a soft chuckle at Kyungsoo's unusually squinting eyes. "Too hot for your liking?"

Kyungsoo looks up, eyes almost becoming slits. "I hate summer," he frowns but follows when Chanyeol starts walking.

Chanyeol reaches up to take his snapback off before easily carding Kyungsoo's bangs backward, fingertips tingling where they touch Kyungsoo's forehead, before tucking Kyungsoo's head under his snapback. "There," Chanyeol says, eyeing the shadow that his snapback has caused to form on the upper half of Kyungsoo's face. The absence of hair on his forehead further emphasizes his wide eyes and Chanyeol grins widely, swiftly taking Kyungsoo's hand in his.

"Thanks," Kyungsoo mumbles, head lowering down as he quickens his walking speed to catch up with Chanyeol's slightly bigger strides, and Chanyeol's chest fills with warmth when Kyungsoo's hand tugs at his.

A man in formal attire almost bumps into Kyungsoo and Chanyeol jostles when Kyungsoo presses himself to Chanyeol's side. His shoulder touches Chanyeol's upper arm and Chanyeol looks down in fascination before quickly intertwining his fingers with Kyungsoo's.

After they change to their working attire in the cinema, there's still half an hour left until their shifts start at two. Chanyeol takes a seat in the sofa at the break room, one leg propped on the other like how he always sits when he has a guitar on his lap, tie hanging loosely around his neck. He swipes a thumb across the screen of his phone and presses the play button, his shoulders relaxing instantly the moment the song that has been on replay floods his ears. He only looks up when a shadow casts beside him.

Kyungsoo looks neat and proper in his uniform. "What are you listening to?" Kyungsoo's voice is muffled against the earphones he's wearing, but Chanyeol can make up the words.

"Such a Fool," Chanyeol answers and shifts to the side as to make space for Kyungsoo to sit. "By George Nozuka," he adds, pulling an earphone away and handing it to Kyungsoo as the latter flops down into the empty space beside him.

Kyungsoo accepts it wordlessly, plugging the earphone into his ear. He's quiet for awhile, seemingly trying to make himself familiar with the music, and Chanyeol waits expectantly, forcing his shoulders to relax despite the significant impatience in the way he looks down eagerly at the Kyungsoo.

"It's about… falling in love with someone when you're already in love with someone else," Kyungsoo says and his face falls slightly. Chanyeol catches the hint of hesistance in Kyungsoo's voice and raises his brows. "I mean, it's just that… people only mostly listen to songs they relate to," Kyungsoo explains and Chanyeol doesn't exactly conclude that Kyungsoo thinks that it's explanation enough because Chanyeol still doesn't really get it.

So he just laughs. Because when you feel somewhat dumb, laugh. "I don't speak english," he admits rather embarrassingly, laughter hanging in mid air, but decides that Kyungsoo isn't Luhan or Baekhyun and thus won't judge him on this. Hopefully.

Chanyeol is right; Kyungsoo doesn't. "Oh," he says, and Chanyeol would have regarded this as pity if it was said in the form of a text message, but Kyungsoo is saying this to his face, voice noticeably lighter and losing the tense that had been present just a minute ago.

"It just feels less burdensome to listen to something you don't know the meaning of and simply appreciate the music itself," Chanyeol says easily, feeling comfortable and open around Kyungsoo's understanding nature.

Kyungsoo hums in response. "Nice taste in music," he says with a heart-shaped smile that makes Chanyeol's stomach tingle with glee and Chanyeol finds himself smiling right back.

In the summer of 2014, Chanyeol finds himself spending the remaining twenty minutes before his shift nestled against another's heat he's grown to be familiar with.

-

In the fall of 2014, Chanyeol finds himself snickering as he ends his shift. He watches Kyungsoo shove Baekhyun away to dump his own money into the register before making his way towards Yixing, snatching a packet of nachos and grabbing two sachets of cheese on his way towards the break room.

Chanyeol reaches out to casually pick a piece of nacho from Kyungsoo when they're going down the escalator, clearly not expecting the swat on his hand. Startled, he turns to see a staring Kyungsoo, face impassive and hands already pulling his pack of nachos away from Chanyeol. "Buy your own," Kyungsoo snaps.

Chanyeol raises his brows, one corner of his lips tugging upwards in pure amusement. "I just want a piece."

Kyungsoo hufts. "I hate sharing my nachos with other people. I hope you don't mind," Kyungsoo says after a moment. Chanyeol snorts but finds himself not minding at all.

The street lamps are always on and the station crowded by the time Chanyeol's shift comes to an end. He holds loosely onto a hanging strap as his body swings along slightly with the moving subway on his way home from work. The train is not entirely packed, and although all of the seats are occupied, Chanyeol isn't complaining because he gets to stand close to Kyungsoo, which is great in very many ways, but mainly because Kyungsoo is handsome and even more handsome up close.

Kyungsoo is leaning against a wall right beside the automatic doors, head lowered and facing the pair of black converse shoes Chanyeol is wearing. Kyungsoo is wearing a matching pair in white and Chanyeol feels himself smile fondly at this. He can't exactly remember as to when he gave Kyungsoo those shoes, if it was a birthday present or some gift which he gave along with an impromptu 'a thank you for paying for my lunch last week', but it doesn't matter because they are wearing matching pairs and that must really mean something.

Chanyeol purposely lets loose of his grip on the hanging strap and swings himself along with the train when it makes a slight turn, causing Kyungsoo to look up, eyes wide and startled. Kyungsoo takes notice of the playful grin on Chanyeol's face and lets out a soft laugh before reaching out with a hand to grab on one of the straps of Chanyeol's backpack, keeping Chanyeol steady and close. So close Chanyeol can faintly smell the lavender scent of the shampoo Kyungsoo uses to wash his hair.

Just as Chanyeol reaches out to grab at the grab rail behind Kyungsoo, the train stops, the voice in the speakers indicating that they're six stations away from Chanyeol's house and five from Kyungsoo's. Passengers begin flowing out of the train and Chanyeol instinctively takes Kyungsoo by the hand when he spots two empty seats nearby, pulling Kyungsoo with him as he makes a beeline towards said seats.

Chanyeol feels slightly reluctant to pull his hand away from Kyungsoo's, but he does anyway as to take his backpack off and drop it onto his lap in a swift, and his heart jumps when Kyungsoo takes his hand once they're seated. It's comfortable and familiar, how Kyungsoo is pressed so easily to his side, how his fingers relax when Kyungsoo traces them with his.

They've gone past another two stations when Kyungsoo's weight presses a little more heavily against his side, fingers going limp against Chanyeol's and head falling to rest on his shoulder. Chanyeol looks down fondly and slowly laces their fingers together, careful not to wake him up.

In the fall of 2014, albeit not amongst the warmth of a bed comforter and the cozy feeling of a good old couch, Chanyeol finds himself resting his head atop another's, thumb rubbing against the back of the other's hand to the rhythm of the subway and the almost inaudible hum of soft exhales.

-

In the winter of 2014, Chanyeol finds himself spending the day after Christmas shivering under festive street decorations, naked hands buried deep in his coat pockets as he walks through the huddle of people.

The pathway is almost crowded, people shuffling along the snow beneath that has accumulated during the previous day's heavy snow, and Chanyeol presses himself against Kyungsoo naturally. Kyungsoo presses back against Chanyeol almost immediately, shoulder pressing against Chanyeol's upper arm like they are made to fit. This time, Chanyeol doesn't jostle and smiles instead as he feels his body register this as a familiar gesture.

They stop behind a pack of people. The amber light flashes. “How was family night yesterday?” Chanyeol asks, pressing close to Kyungsoo as they join the swarm of people to cross the road.

“Great,” Kyungsoo answers, voice muffled under the mask and scarf he’s wearing. He doesn’t sound really happy. Chanyeol frowns.

Christmas with the family has always been great for Chanyeol, chatting over overflowing home cooked meals with cousins who live far away never failing to bring a huge sincere grin on his face. Chanyeol hopes Kyungsoo, too, felt happy by the least. “You don’t sound like you mean it,” he says, eyes focused on Kyungsoo’s face, which really isn’t of much help on noting Kyungsoo's expression since his eyes are the only ones that are showing on his face.

They arrive at the other side of the road and Kyungsoo tugs at Chanyeol’s arm towards a stall selling fish cake skewers. “I do,” Kyungsoo says, voice still muffled. “I just—I hate winter,” he states grumpily.

It’s not entirely surprising to Chanyeol. Even Chanyeol himself dislikes winter. But to hate something so delightful and fluffy is just so… Kyungsoo. Chanyeol turns to face him, not even bothering to hide the amusement already showing on his face. He chuckles, “You hate everything.”

Chanyeol gets in the line first, leaning one side of his body against a wall. Kyungsoo squeezes himself away from the pedestrians and stands close to Chanyeol. “I like nachos,” Kyungsoo says defensively, looking up at Chanyeol with that serious glint in his eyes that Chanyeol lists as one of the countless things he really, really likes about Kyungsoo. Chanyeol smiles and Kyungsoo looks down in response, burying himself deeper into his scarf. And then Kyungsoo looks at him, looks away, and looks at him again and Chanyeol leans in just a bit closer to hear what Kyungsoo has to say, “And you.”

It takes Chanyeol a moment to take in what Kyungsoo means, and when it sinks in, Chanyeol beams so bright he winches at the way his chapped lips stretch against the cold night. He takes one hand out from his coat pocket to sling his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders, pulling the latter towards himself before realising a bit too late that he hasn’t his glove on. The freezing air hits the numb skin of his naked hand in an instant and he pulls said hand back into his pocket.

“I like you too,” he says, body close against Kyungsoo’s as they shuffle down the queue line. Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, head lowered and face almost entirely buried deep in his scarf, but doesn’t pull away when Chanyeol presses close to his side.

After finishing their fish cake skewers in several minutes, Chanyeol taking in his and half of Kyungsoo’s share, they walk past a line of stalls selling bungeoppang and hoppang, ignoring the smell of freshly baked pastries in favor of not standing in a 15-minute queue line.

The wind is biting against his ears and the air cold and dry when he inhales, and for the hundredth time that night, Chanyeol regrets wearing no more than two layers of clothings. He side glances jealously at Kyungsoo who is bundled up in what looks like ten layers of clothings from head to toe.

Chanyeol raises his shoulders as to bury more of his head into the collar of his coat and sighs when he fails miserably. "Can we stop for a while? It's cold," Chanyeol says, eyeing at the coffee shop a few steps away.

"The restaurant is barely ten minutes away," Kyungsoo says.

Chanyeol brings his hands up and blows hot air onto his palms, frowning at the short-lasting warmth. "It's freaking cold," he moans, looking down hopefully at Kyungsoo. Damn, he'd plea if he should.

Kyungsoo hufts. "Did I or did I not tell you to wear warmer clothes?"

Chanyeol juts his lower lip out and pushes down the urge to sulk. "Doesn't really matter,” Chanyeol says after a moment. “I still won't be feeling as warm as you do since I'm fifteen centimetres taller than you are, which means that more of my body is experiencing the cold," he reasons, grinning. He flinches when Kyungsoo threatens to smack his arm.

They're a few turns away from the restaurant when Kyungsoo stops and tugs Chanyeol by the forearm, pulling him away from the flow of people and to the inner side of the sidewalk. When Chanyeol looks down in question, Kyungsoo is pulling his scarf and mask down with one hand and pulling Chanyeol by the coat towards him with another, neck craning up to press his lips against Chanyeol's.

Chanyeol finds himself blinking repeatedly when realization downs in him that Kyungsoo is kissing him, lips full and soft. He doesn't care if his hand feels numb and cold when he pulls it out of his pocket because he's reaching up to rest his palm against the back of Kyungsoo's head, fingers buried amongst soft, brown locks and lids fluttering close at how warm Kyungsoo's lips feel against his.

Kyungsoo slides his lips against Chanyeol's before pulling away and Chanyeol smiles at the tingling warmth that still lingers. It's warm and Chanyeol doesn't want to pull away. "Do it again," Chanyeol whispers, smiling and face close to Kyungsoo's. Kyungsoo pushes his mask and scarf up.

"No," he tells Chanyeol, sliding his hand off Chanyeol's coat and reaching up to pull Chanyeol's hand away from his head. Chanyeol slips his hand back into his coat pocket. "Your lips are ice cold," he adds, almost sounding impassive, except that a second later he's linking his arm around Chanyeol's and pulling Chanyeol into the flow of people. Chanyeol smiles.

In the winter of 2014, from what started off as light tugs at his heart and progressed with a slow yet steady rhythm of unrushed feelings and actions, Chanyeol finds himself having fallen for Do Kyungsoo as he breathes in his presence, warm and close and there.


	3. It's a Compliment / sekai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted feb '15.
> 
> jongin/sehun, pg, uni au, library(?) au, 3800 words.
> 
> summary: sehun is a hundred and one percent sure that jongin's frequent visits to the library are not for the books.

Sehun isn't so surprised when fluffy dark brown hair guy swerves his way back into the library after walking out with his friends just three seconds ago.

Fluffy dark brown hair guy has been sitting in the library with his friends while occasionally sending not-so-subtle lingering stares towards the direction of the front desk and smirking whenever Sehun's gaze meets his.

He's alone when he returns, making confident strides towards the front desk and looking straight at Sehun. Sehun stares back.

"Hey," comes out at an amusingly casual voice as fluffy dark brown hair guy places his forearm on the counter, leaning foreword and sporting a look on his face that Sehun can’t really read, mostly because he doesn’t care.

"How can I help you?" Sehun asks professionally and straightens himself up a bit for good measure.

Fluffy dark brown hair guy raises his brows in amusement. He looks away for a split second, and when he looks back at Sehun, his smile stretches. “You have a really cute jawline.”

Sehun almost chokes on nothing and feels internally proud of his ability to maintain his poker face most of the time.

Quick comebacks aren’t Sehun’s forte. “We don’t have that book in here. I’m sorry.”

Fluffy dark brown hair guy looks oddly pleased. “Damn, you’re cute. I’m coming back tomorrow,” he says with a wave and walks away before Sehun can respond, leaving Sehun blinking and flustered.

-

Fluffy dark brown hair guy does come again the next day. It’s surprising this time because Sehun has thought that he was simply saying it to tease him.

“You have a great taste in books,” fluffy dark brown hair guy says, eyeing Sehun’s stack of The Chronicles of Narnia.

Of course Sehun does, and his mouth twitches slightly at the sudden pride bubbling in him. He is quick to sweep it away, however, choosing to look back down at his copy of Prince Caspian and swiftly turning to the next page.

Fluffy dark brown hair guy is quiet for a while, perhaps having deep thoughts on his life choices, Sehun really doesn’t care. Aside from still being able to sense his presence and unable to entirely concentrate on his re-read.

When Sehun looks up, fluffy dark brown hair guy is still there, much to his annoyance. “If you’re not going to ask for anything books related, please go away.” Fluffy dark brown hair guy doesn’t budge and Sehun is really losing his patience. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Fluffy dark brown hair guy’s mouth opens and the ends of his lips pull up in what Sehun categorizes as amusement. “Because you’re beautiful. I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence.”

Sehun blinks, startled at the sudden statement directed to him, and pointedly ignores the rush of heat running up his cheeks.

When Sehun doesn’t answer, fluffy dark brown hair guy prompts, “Augustus Waters?”

Oh, that. Right.

Sehun had seen The Fault in Our Stars at the theater because Kyungsoo was craving for nachos and Baekhyun had said that it’d be great. It wasn’t great. Really, Sehun had spent the entire span of the movie internally blocking away Baekhyun’s muffled squeals, Zitao’s unattractive sobs, and Chanyeol’s snickers at the spontaneous jokes he had shared with Jongdae over the movie.

Sehun has not read the book. “I don’t read romance novels,” he says and catches fluffy dark brown hair guy’s face drop by the slightest.

One side of his lips pulls up after a second, however, and he says with an amused smirk, “I don’t read romance novels either.” He looks down at his phone, sighing before pushing himself off the counter, smiling and waving a, “See you tomorrow,” at Sehun as he makes his way out.

Sehun spends the rest of his shift finishing Prince Caspian, occasionally finding himself trail off at amused eyes and teasing smirks.

-

Fluffy dark brown hair guy doesn’t look like a man of his words, but he does come back the next day, approaching the front desk and propping his elbow on Sehun’s calculator. “For you,” he says, handing Sehun a Kit Kat bar, and Sehun just stares because the last time he checked, a librarian’s task is to receive borrowed books and not chocolates.

“Food is not allowed in the library,” Sehun says pointedly and has to look away because he’s pretty sure that his cheeks are red. Although he doesn’t exactly know why.

“Unless you don’t want one, then I’ll just—”

Sehun cuts him off by taking the offered Kit Kat and shoving it into his sling bag wordlessly, feeling even more embarrassed when he sees the pleased expression forming on the guy’s face.

“I’m Jongin, by the way,” catches Sehun off-guard, but Sehun doesn’t really mind the sudden introduction because it’s a lot easier to address him by his name rather than fluffy dark brown hair guy. Also because Sehun is sort of a little curious about it.

“Sehun,” he mutters.

Jongin smiles. “You have a pretty name, Sehun,” he says, and Sehun could have pretended to vomit if those words had come out of Joonmyun’s mouth, but Jongin says it so casually and confident that Sehun has to keep down the urge to bite his bottom lip.

He licks his lips instead. “Do you mind?” he asks, pulling at his calculator from under Jongin’s elbow.

“Sorry—” Jongin says, lifting his elbow. Sehun has to admit that he’s quite startled by Jongin’s apology, but then Jongin finishes his sentence and Sehun regrets having even thought of it. “—to say that I don’t think the word ‘pretty’ suits you like it does your name because your face says hot all over.”

Sehun frowns at this. Is this why Jongin has been bothering him all along? Because Jongin thinks Sehun is ‘hot’ and doesn’t look like he’s proper and neat enough to be a librarian?

Sehun is aware of his bitch face—the kind that, “is from that one middle school gang who thinks they’re cool and would pick fights with other kids only to wail over bleeding nose later on,” as how Jongdae had put it. His face may not resemble the responsible ethics of his part-time job, considering that books and ignorant faces never go together, but Sehun loves his job as much as he loves books.

Just because he doesn’t look like it, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t enjoy being a librarian. And fluffy dark brown hair guy right here can kindly leave if he’s just going to interrupt Sehun from doing his Statistics homework to only stare at him with a smile that both creeps and melts him at the same time.

A student with round single eyelids comes up, easily shoving Jongin to the side and hurriedly placing a stack of books on the counter. His fingers drum impatiently at the surface of the counter and his eyes keep glancing at the wall clock behind Sehun.

Sehun moves to register the books. He should be glad to be freed from Jongin, but he can’t help but notice the sinking feeling in his chest and can’t quite place to why he doesn’t categorize single-eyelid guy’s act as something he has to be grateful for.

-

It’s not that Sehun stares. Jongin’s clothing the next day is just noticeably different compared to his usual band tee and skinny jeans. The first thought that flashes in Sehun’s mind when Jongin enters the library is how breathtakingly attractive Jongin looks in a grey tank and a pair of washed jeans, blue plaid shirt hanging off his left shoulder.

Jongin props his elbow on the counter, head dipping down to card damp hair with tan fingers. An inviting trail of sweat trickles down one side of his face and Sehun tries not to gulp.

Jongin inhales, extending his hand towards Sehun. “Water,” he says, palm facing upwards.

Slightly taken aback by the demanding greeting, Sehun grumbles, “If you want water, go to the cafeteria.”

Jongin looks up from where he’s trying to regain his breath. “I don’t want to buy water. I’m asking for it,” he says with eyebrows raised like Sehun is supposed to be aware of the obvious that he’s saying.

“What?” Sehun stares back in confusion because really, what?

Jongin gives him an incredulous look. “You aren’t staying here for hours without at least a bottle of water with you, are you?” He asks and Sehun doesn’t miss the way his eyes glance down to Sehun’s lips before moving back up in a second.

Dumbfounded, Sehun decides not to argue, instead slowly reaching into his own sling bag to fish his water bottle out.

“Thank you,” Jongin says as he accepts the bottle and Sehun’s lower jaw slacks slightly at the ungrateful tone. He can clearly see that Jongin is thanking him for finally understanding what he’s trying to say rather than Sehun having complied to his demand.

Sehun decidedly does not look at Jongin drink his water and lips touching the mouth of his water bottle, instead busying himself with mostly things that don’t require his concern as long as he has his attention off Jongin. Sehun only looks up when Jongin places his water bottle on the counter right in front of Sehun. Sehun puts it back into his bag wordlessly.

“No reading today?” Jongin asks after a moment, elbow propped and body leaning against the counter. “No school stuff,” he concludes more than questions when Sehun ignores him. An annoying Jongin makes Sehun want to throw him right out of the window, but he doesn’t because at least this Jongin is less of a heaving chest and sweaty skin that have made Sehun somewhat bothered just a while ago.

Forcing the thought away, Sehun sighs irritatedly. “Can you stop?”

“Stop what?” Jongin asks, tone unapologetic, and Sehun wishes that he could kick Jongin out under library rules and regulations. Jongin isn’t disturbingly noisy in general, though, so Sehun decides to not even think of it.

“Bothering me,” Sehun answers, exasperated. Sehun is aware that most part-time librarians around him only apply for the job because it’s easy credit. But that doesn’t make Sehun that way. Just because he’s also a student, doesn’t mean he’s only there for the money and credits and doesn’t mind doing his job properly.

Jongin shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m bothering you.”

Sehun feels his insides fume and he resists the urge to punch himself. “Stubborn,” Sehun mutters under his breath as he makes to register new books into the database.

Jongin chuckles. “I’m persistent.”

Sehun’s fingers stop typing. “You’re annoying,” Sehun corrects, giving Jongin a pointed look.

“And you’re hot,” Jongin says easily, eyes never leaving Sehun’s and a smile on his face. Sehun gulps down a gasp, because it’d be ridiculous to falter over something he’s heard for countless times in his life.

Sehun knows that he is nowhere near ugly, far above average-looking even, and Jongin’s words should have impacted Sehun like no more of a mere flattering remark. Instead, Sehun feels a cluster of butterflies surround his chest, flying near and tickling.

Sehun feels oddly pleased.

Sehun also does not tolerate anyone who thinks playfully over a serious matter. “Are you hitting on me?” He squints at Jongin accusingly.

An amused smirk forms itself on Jongin’s face. “I’m not hitting on you. It was a compliment.”

Sehun rolls his eyes.

-

Even if it hasn’t been a whole week, Sehun has gotten used to Jongin’s daily visits by now. He’s weirdly so used to the confident strides and propped elbow that he can’t help but feel the disappointment when Jongin doesn’t come. All day, he’s been looking up from whatever he’s doing whenever he hears the door open and his heart always drops slightly because the people entering are never of fluffy dark brown hair and smirking lips.

Maybe it’s too early to think that Jongin appearing so suddenly, shining eyes and a playful grin on his face, will be a part of Sehun’s everyday. Sehun thinks it’s funny because he barely even knows Jongin. And yet he finds himself missing him at the same time.

-

“Couldn’t come yesterday because dance practice was hectic as heck.”

When Sehun looks up from his Moby Dick, Jongin is peering at his book. Sehun folds a triangle to one corner of the page he’s in and closes the book, placing it face down on the counter. He pushes forward on his swivel chair and opens his laptop, opening Minesweeper but closing it again.

He looks up, pushing down the tingling sensation in his chest as he raises an eyebrow. “Thanks for informing me even when I didn’t ask. That’s really appreciable of you.”

Jongin ignores him. “Did you miss me?” he asks instead.

Yes. “No,” Sehun denies right away, glancing back at the screensaver on his laptop. “Why would I?” he asks rhetorically. It makes him wonder why he’d missed Jongin. It’s silly. He’s silly. Jongin’s silly.

“From the way you lick your lips whenever I’m around?” Jongin suggests.

Sehun freezes and contemplates over the possibility that Jongin may be able to read minds because Sehun is literally just about to lick his lips, the tip of his tongue already peeking out of his mouth. He slips his tongue back in.

“It’s a habit,” Sehun says in defense. It’s not entirely a lie. He isn’t quite sure how it started or how long he’s been doing it, but he’s become aware of it for months now. Although, to be fair, he does it twice as much whenever Jongin’s around.

Jongin’s chin pushes up, his contemplative look seeming to consider this. “Okay. Fair enough,” he decides, reaching out to take Sehun’s Moby Dick.

Sehun doesn’t usually let anyone go anywhere near his books, especially Chanyeol because he reads and snacks on crunchy food at the same time, and especially Zitao because he cries at basically every sad moments he encounters and Sehun honestly minds getting tears on his books, thank you very much. Sehun decides that Jongin doesn’t look like someone who’d act either way, so Sehun lets him.

They’ve gone quiet for a good ten minutes, Jongin standing by the side silently, already letting go of Sehun’s book, and Sehun attending to students and registering borrowed and returned books. Sehun finds he doesn’t really mind. Jongin’s good company. But only until he starts talking and bothering Sehun and gets annoying all over again.

“Hey Sehun,” Jongin calls, moving to lean against the side of the counter right in front of Sehun.

Sehun looks up, face impassive as he tries to hide his interest. “What?” he snaps.

Jongin smiles, pleased. “Want to know what you are to me on a scale of one to ten?”

Sehun licks his lips. “No,” he says, looking down to check on the new books that have just arrived earlier that day. “And I don’t care,” he adds decidedly.

There’s a pause and without even glancing up to check, Sehun can sense the amused look forming on Jongin’s face. “You’re a nine,” Jongin says after a moment.

Sehun blinks. “Why?” Sehun asks, pure curiousity and dismay in his tone.

He’s not going to admit it, but that caught Sehun off-guard. He’s not ugly. He knows that he’s attractive. He’s got the looks. Even Kyungsoo has grumpily agreed over bread and ham that Sehun is a perfect ten.

Sehun doesn’t try to hide the bemusement as he reaches out for his water bottle, gulping down water furiously and hoping that it’ll put down the spark of fire in his stomach. It’s so humiliating that Sehun doesn’t think anything can catch him off-guard even more.

Jongin proves him wrong. “Because I’m the _one_ for you.”

Sehun chokes and spits water all over Jongin’s face.

-

“Sorry for yesterday,” Sehun says when Jongin walks to the front desk, abashed and barely looking up from his notes on To Kill a Mockingbird. Books are great, really, but sometimes Sehun wishes he hadn’t taken Literature.

“No big deal,” Jongin says easily. When Jongin shrugs, Sehun takes this as an acceptance gesture to his apology and focuses to resume working on his notes. Jongin adds, “Having your spit on my face won’t be something you’ll do unpurposefully sooner or later, anyway. So why bother?”

Stunned, Sehun’s hand stops to a halt. “Did you just—” he squeaks, head snapping up.

Jongin cuts him off. “Do you have Fahrenheit 451?” he asks casually, face unwavering as Sehun looks at him in surprise.

Sehun looks away, surprised partly because of the unexpected statement and partly because it’s Jongin’s first time to actually borrow a book. “Yes,” Sehun says, looking back. He points to a section plank hanging above the row of shelves. “That section. Books are arranged by author names,” he points out, eyes never leaving Jongin as the latter pushes himself away from the counter.

“Thanks. Be right back,” Jongin says before turning and making his way towards said section, leaving Sehun hot and flustered.

Jongin returns after a few minutes, a copy of Fahrenheit 451 in his grasp.

He hands it to Sehun and watches as Sehun registers said book into the borrowed database. “You have really pretty little lips,” Jongin says, tone light and fond and Sehun instantly stills.

“Can you stop hitting on me?” Sehun snaps, furrowed brows masking the heat already creeping up his cheeks.

Jongin lets out an amused chuckle. “I’m not hitting on you. I told you, it was a compliment.”

Sehun would say ‘then stop complimenting me,’ but he doesn’t exactly want Jongin to stop. Instead, rather than a week, he makes tomorrow the date of returning the book. Although, if he’s honest with himself, he mostly only does that to ensure that Jongin comes again the next day.

-

“You know, when I think of you, I see you as the hazelnut kind of guy. It’s sweet and tempting, but when you get a taste of it, you get that bitter taste in your mouth. And yet that’s what makes it taste really good,” Jongin says, handing Sehun the Fahrenheit 451 he borrowed. He rests his forearm on the surface of the counter comfortably. “You’re cute, like, really cute. But when I get to know you, you’re kind of rough. But the good kind of rough. You get me?”

Sehun fixes him a look. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the librarian here and if you won’t stop blabbering, I have the rights to kick you out,” he sighs heavily as he shakes his head. He hasn’t expected Jongin to return the book on time without complaining about the unreasonably short borrowing period, but Sehun is too distracted by the tingling feeling in his chest that makes him feel light and all smiley inside.

“Will you, though?” Jongin asks, one end of his lips already tugging upwards in victory.

Sehun knows he’s lost. “Will I what?” he asks instead, setting the book Jongin has returned aside and reaching out for a stack of newly arrived books.

Jongin smiles, twinkling eyes never leaving Sehun’s. “Just because you have the rights to kick me out, doesn’t mean you want to kick me out.” Yup, Sehun has pretty much lost.

He opens his mouth for a retort, but nothing comes out. As soon as he closes his mouth in defeat, a doe-eyed guy walks up behind Jongin with two thick books in hand and Sehun sees this as an opportunity. Fixing Jongin a look, he huffs, “Move.”

As he attends to doe-eyed guy, he tries to ignore the content smile on Jongin’s face and pushes down the gleeful sensation stirring in his stomach.

-

That morning, Sehun has left home squinting at the sun. Clearly, he hasn’t expected the rain to pour so heavily only several hours later.

Sehun only sighs heavily as he watches students walk away and under the rain, umbrellas grasped close and tight. The sky is a dull shade of grey, not like every other shades of grey isn’t dull, but still, it’s so dark and gloomy that Sehun can’t help the frown on his face.

He has left home thinking of the pile of new books he’s going to register, the noisy students he’s going to give warnings to, and a certain person he wants to both kick out and never leave his eyes from at the same time. He hasn’t thought of bringing an umbrella along. He should’ve brought an umbrella. Now, he can’t even walk to the bus stop.

He’s pulled away from his train of thoughts when a shadow casts beside him. His eyes widen slightly when he looks up.

“Hey,” Jongin says, moving to stand beside Sehun, a closed umbrella in his hand.

“You didn’t come to the library today,” Sehun points out before his mind can register.

Jongin’s lips tug upwards. Sehun realises that Jongin is slightly shorter than he is up close. He’s wearing a black tank and a pair of drop-crotch sweatpants and Sehun tries not to stare. “Been spending extra time on dance practice lately.”

Sehun runs a hand down his newly dyed hair before crossing his arms on his chest. The air is cold and damp, the rain only getting heavier as he waits. Jongin opens his umbrella and holds it up above himself, moving closer to Sehun so that it shelters him too. Their arms don’t quite touch just yet and Sehun pushes away the urge to close the distance between them.

He takes a glance at Jongin, chin up and eyes focused where the rain meets the road. He looks serene this way. Something sparkles and bubbles in Sehun’s stomach, urging to come out. Jongin seems to notice him staring.

“What is it?” Jongin asks, turning to look at Sehun.

Sehun opens and closes his mouth, hesitant. “You’ll laugh at me,” he says after a moment.

Jongin chuckles shortly, ending it with an encouraging smile. “No, tell me,” he promises softly.

The rain is only getting heavier and louder, burying every other noise that tries to escape. But Jongin is near, so close that Sehun can hear him talk even amongst the sound of the rain. Sehun inhales nervously. “Go out with me,” Sehun asks, but it comes out more like a statement.

Jongin doesn’t answer, simply glances up at sehun’s hair. “Blonde suits you,” he smiles, brows raised in admiration.

Sehun stares at Jongin in confusion. “Is that a yes?”

Jongin’s eyes trail down to stare back at Sehun. “Nope, it was a compliment,” he says, eyes twinkling. His hand slips into Sehun’s and wraps around it, enveloping and warm. “But yes, I’ll go out with you,” he finishes, swiftly pressing a kiss on Sehun’s flushed cheek before stepping into the pathway, tugging Sehun beside him.


	4. Up Your Game, Play Better / baekchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted apr '15, during the call me baby era.
> 
> baekhyun/jongdae, pg-13, canon, 1000 words.
> 
> summary: baekhyun wants to be the one to initiate but always finds himself cornered even before he sees it coming. so when jongdae gets his hair permed for their next comeback, baekhyun decides to up his game.

Baekhyun enjoys being loud the most. It allows him to voice out his opinions without bottling everything inside and he gets to laugh out loud and easily open up with everyone else. It’s a good trait, at least Baekhyun considers it to be so. So whenever the members complain on how obnoxiously loud he is, Baekhyun simply laughs it off and gets back to bothering them again.

It’s easy to speak up and direct conversation topics to where he wants, easy to lure others to think the way he wants them to. What Baekhyun doesn’t find easy is facing someone else that is just as sassy as he is, if not more, so Baekhyun is taken aback whenever Jongdae does the opposite reaction of what’s scripted in Baekhyun’s head and laughs things off before Baekhyun does.

“What do you want to eat?” Jongdae asks as the two of them walk down one of the smaller streets in Hongdae.

“Sausage stew?” Baekhyun suggests, already eyeing the restaurant selling the mentioned dish just several steps ahead.

“We ate that a few days ago, though. Let’s eat cold noodles,” Jongdae decides easily, already pulling Baekhyun into a restaurant selling cold noodles and Baekhyun finds himself unable to complain.

Sure, Kyungsoo is really good at making use of his headlock skills and Minseok mostly pulls out his Hyung card even before Baekhyun decides to bother him in between his PES matches with Lu Han, but Baekhyun can always think of other things to do to make them upset and admit that yes, Baekhyun is the most obnoxious person they have and will ever meet.

Just not Jongdae. Never Jongdae.

So when Jongdae pulls at one of his ears during a recording of Love Game radio, Baekhyun lets him and nods along with the Miracles in December that is playing in the background instead. But Jongdae can be touchy when he’s bored, so he proceeds to tug at baekhyun’s shirt and question Baekhyun when he doesn’t—can’t—respond, instead flipping at the pages of his script.

Half an hour into the recording finds Jongdae tidying Baekhyun’s hair and stroking at his cheek. Baekhyun smiles at the affection before Jongdae slaps him at the spot he’s been stroking gently. It stings but Baekhyun finds himself smiling even more.

What Baekhyun has realized as he dives further into the entertainment world of packed schedules and demanding fanservices is that he isn’t the type to accept skinship. Sure, he’s okay with touching and holding the other members because it’s easy when he’s the one in control, but he’s never quite fond of being the one that is at the receiving end.

Chanyeol is a good example. It’s not seldom that Chanyeol looks for chances to playfully punch Baekhyun and nudge and poke, just that he almost never gets the chance to because Baekhyun is good with his instinct and Chanyeol is somewhat on the dumb side of Baekhyun’s list of acquaintances, so Baekhyun pushes and punches back.

Baekhyun likes ruffling Sehun’s fluffy hair. Sehun is young and cute despite his height and the other members can never really get fully mad at him whenever he pesters at them because he’s the youngest after all. But Baekhyun finds himself leaning away whenever Sehun whispers into his ear.

Baekhyun never leans away whenever Jongdae whispers into his ear.

It does bother him and tickles his neck, but Baekhyun never resists whenever it comes to Jongdae. Jongdae is insistent and always has things go his way so Baekhyun doesn’t lean away because Jongdae’s breath is warm against him and Baekhyun wants.

That is the problem.

Baekhyun feels the words on the tip of his tongue freeze whenever Jongdae talks back at him and doesn’t pull away whenever Jongdae links his arm around Baekhyun’s. Baekhyun pushes but gets pushed back and back because Jongdae always initiates and never lets Baekhyun have it his way. _That_ is the problem because Baekhyun wants to touch and hold Jongdae close but what can he do when Jongdae’s got him cornered even before he sees it coming?

So when Jongdae gets his hair permed for their next comeback, Baekhyun decides to up his game.

“Cute,” Baekhyun says, running his fingers through Jongdae’s hair and only stops when Jongdae swats at his hand.

“You’re ruining it,” Jongdae says, voice slightly biting but Baekhyun grins when he catches Jongdae smile.

When Jongdae reaches for his hand during the encore of one of the weekly music shows they’ve won in, Baekhyun pulls his hand away. Jongdae makes to frown but doesn’t because Baekhyun is slipping his fingers in between Jongdae’s and pulling him close.

When Jongdae presses his chest against Baekhyun’s back and slips his arms to wrap around Baekhyun from behind, Baekhyun slips away and moves to stand beside Jongdae instead, slipping his hand to rest at the small of Jongdae’s back.

Later when they settle at the couch for a movie in the K dorm, Jongdae dropping himself in between Baekhyun and Zitao and resting his head against Baekhyun’s shoulder, Baekhyun slips his arm along Jongdae’s shoulders and buries his fingers in Jongdae’s curly locks. Jongdae snuggles deeper when Baekhyun cards his fingers down Jongdae’s hair and Baekhyun’s mouth stretches into a victorious smile.

“Jongdae, your ramyeon hair is very pretty,” Jongdae reads from his rolling paper as they sit for exocast.

Baekhyun smiles when he catches a hint of red on Jongdae’s cheeks and later confesses even when they’ve moved on to reading Jongin’s rolling paper, “That one part about Jongdae’s hair is by me.”

Baekhyun feels a spark of pride form in him when he realizes that he’s gaining control over this. What Baekhyun doesn’t realize is Jongdae isn’t slow at reading changes in his surrounding.

Jongdae slips his hand to rest on Baekhyun’s knee and leans in to whisper into Baekhyun’s ear, “Is this what you’re planning to do next?”

Baekhyun turns to him, startled, but then Jongdae is laughing along with Ryeowook and the other members at the joke Jongin has just cracked as they sit together for Sukira. Baekhyun fakes a nervous laugh.

“It’s good to know that you’re upping your game. Too bad, though, I always play better,” Jongdae whispers at him, hand rubbing faintly at Baekhyun’s inner thigh.

Baekhyun knows he’s lost and gulps down a whimper.


	5. Marry Him Anyway / lukai ft. minseok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted apr '15.
> 
> lu han/jongin ft. father-in-law!minseok. pg, 2000 words.
> 
> summary: a father-in-law is every guy's nightmare. kim minseok is on a whole different level.

“Don’t be nervous. Just calm down. It’s going to be okay,” Jongin repeats for the hundredth time that day.

“I’m perfectly calm,” Lu Han says, eyes on the road and head bobbing along with the song playing on the radio.

Even without turning to check, Lu Han can feel Jongin raise an eyebrow. “You’ve been tapping at the steering wheel since we left your apartment.”

Wrong. It’s the entire opposite. Lu Han is giddy and he recognizes this feeling, the air on his skin screaming with expectation and excitement and too much confidence. It’s dangerous, and Lu Han finds himself enjoying this.

 

“Hello.” Smile. A wide smile of perfect white teeth because it gives room for a good first impression.

The man doesn’t smile back, instead frowning at Lu Han very pointedly.

“I’m Lu Han.” Lu Han is still smiling very widely. “I’m Jongin’s boyfriend.” Lu Han’s cheeks are beginning to feel numb.

The frown deepens. “You’re not Korean,” the man says, nose scrunching at Lu Han’s unfamiliar accent.

Lu Han’s brows arch towards the opposite direction almost immediately at the unexpected remark but he remembers to keep the smile on. “I’m Chinese,” he says after a moment.

“Lu Han, this is my dad. Dad, this is Lu Han,” Jongin tells the man who may or may not be having a very serious constipation at the moment, and Lu Han tries not to laugh at his ridiculous frowning face.

 

Lu Han makes himself comfortable on the chair at the dining table and looks around absently, taking in the family pictures and singing competition trophies and certificates displayed in the glass cupboards.

“I didn’t know you sing,” Lu Han says, turning to Jongin and leaning in.

Jongin is busy munching at cherry tomatoes. “I don’t,” Jongin says distractedly before looking away and picking out another cherry tomato.

 

When Minseok left them at the dining table and went to the kitchen instead, Lu Han has thought that he’s finally getting something to moisten his dry throat. He is wrong because Minseok comes back with a cup of latte in hand, not two and Lu Han tries to ignore the enticing smell of coffee.

Minseok sits across Jongin. Jongin lets out a sigh. “Coffee?” he offers, turning to Lu Han.

Lu Han nods thankfully and internally wilts when Minseok grunts irritatedly.

 

Lu Han is thankful when Jongin returns after two minutes that feels like two hours because if he were to be left alone with Minseok for another minute, he’s pretty sure he’d end up setting up a gag show because that frown is extremely upsetting.

“Where do you live?” Minseok asks just as Jongin pushes the coffee he’s just made towards Lu Han and drops to his seat.

Whether or not Lu Han is still living with his parents. If Lu Han can afford his own house. Where Lu Han lives and possibly Jongin, in the future, too. Of course. “I own an apartment in Gangnam. It’s nothing fancy, just enough for—”

“What is your level of education?” Minseok asks, cutting Lu Han off mid-sentence.

“I graduated university with a double major five years ago. My first major, electrical engineering, brought me to where I am now. I do network analysis on whether a power system is safe and secure to run. My second major is—”

“Show off,” Minseok says as he puts down his coffee, cutting Lu Han off mid-sentence for the _second fucking time_. “I don’t like him,” Minseok tells Jongin as if Lu Han isn’t sitting right beside his son and Lu Han seriously considers spilling coffee all over the old man.

Minseok moves on to talk to mostly Jongin about his recent trip to Spain and France and Italy and Lu Han pushes down the urge to snap _Show off!_ in various degrees of aggravation.

 

-

 

“Your dad looks like a steamed bun,” Lu Han tells Jongin as they stand in queue for the cinema tickets, Jongin pressed close and warm to Lu Han’s side.

Jongin snickers. “You’re lucky he’s not here right now.”

 

-

 

The second time Lu Han visits Jongin’s dad’s house, the three of them sit for dinner and have seafood.

Jongin sits across Lu Han, Minseok by Jongin’s side. Lu Han smiles over rice as he listens to Jongin talk, brows shooting up in enthusiasm and laughter ringing melodies in Lu Han’s ears. Jongin only stops to pick an oyster and offer it to Lu Han.

Lu Han leans in easily, mouth open to take in the offered oyster.

Minseok pushes Lu Han away with a disapproving glint in his eyes and the tip of his chopsticks on Lu Han’s forehead.

 

That night, Lu Han lies in bed with a frown on his face over the thought of a certain bun face he so wants to smack with all the pride he has left. He dials Yixing instead.

“We’re playing tomorrow. Tell Chanyeol to come and bring his cajon along. I’ll text you the address of the battle field. And we’re going to fucking win this shit.”

 

-

 

“Seriously?” Jongin says as he sits at the stairs of the terrace, an amused smile on his face as he watches Lu Han place a chair in the middle of the front lawn. Yixing and Chanyeol position themselves by Lu Han’s either sides. “You called me at six in the morning on a Saturday just so I can listen to you sing in my front lawn?”

“Well, you have to be here because it’d be weird if I were here when you weren’t. The song isn’t for you, though,” Lu Han says, giving Jongin a confident smile and rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.

“Then who?” When Lu Han gives him a look, realization seems to dawn in Jongin and he stares at Lu Han in disbelief. “No way. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lu Han just grins. “I was never kidding when I said I’ll marry you.”

The music starts with Chanyeol slapping at his cajon lazily, head bobbing along with the reggae beat and giving a subtle cue for Yixing to come in with his guitar.

Lu Han looks up at the far left window of the second floor where the curtains are closed as he starts, “Saturday morning jumped out of bed and put on my best suit.”

Lu Han is loud in general, so it’s a piece of cake to raise his voice and sing above Chanyeol and Yixing’s instruments playing in the background.

“Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you.”

Minseok is nowhere to be seen, the morning air still lingering and the closed curtains unmoving. Lu Han doesn’t stop.

“Knocked on your door with heart in my hand to ask you a question.”

Lu Han can feel the confidence building up in his stomach. Confidence can be a dangerous trait, but Lu Han isn’t going to lose. And if he’s going to win this, he may as well wear his confidence with style, proud and unmasked.

“’Cause I know that you’re an old-fashioned man.”

Minseok only looks out of the now drawn curtains of the far left window on the second floor at the end of the second verse, and a startled look forms itself on Lu Han’s face before it completely transforms into a thrilling smirk.

“Can I have your Jongin for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, ‘cause I need to know.”

Minseok looks down at him, face frowning in disapproval and hair disheveled by sleep. He looks like an oversteamed bun and Lu Han tries not to laugh.

“You say I’ll never get your blessing till the day I die. ‘Tough luck, my friend, but the answer’s still no’.”

It must have been obnoxious to be woken up by someone singing in your front lawn, Lu Han thinks, but it’s none of Lu Han’s business. He’s enjoying this more and more, the beats electrifying and Lu Han is both angry and excited at the same time. It’s a potentially problematic state, but Lu Han isn’t going to care because it’s the chorus and fuck it, he’s going to make Minseok say yes.

“Why you gotta be so rude? Don’t you know I’m human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I’m gonna marry him anyway.”

Lu Han looks down to meet Jongin’s eyes, an entertained smile on Jongin's face as he stares back at Lu Han.

“Marry that guy, marry him anyway.”

If Jongin thinks that Lu Han is crazy, he doesn’t mention it.

“Marry that guy, no matter what you say.”

Lu Han brings his fingers to his lips and presses on the tips before pointing at Jongin, as if sending him a flying kiss, and smiles when Jongin grins shyly before looking back up at Minseok.

“Marry that guy, and we’ll be a family.”

The sleep is gone from his face now, Lu Han realizes, and Minseok leans against the opened window, eyes sharp and lips set in a line Lu Han can’t really read.

“Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?”

Only when he comes to the last line of the song does Lu Han realize that the look minseok has been wearing is not of disapproval, but recognition.

The song comes to an end and Lu Han watches as Minseok slow claps. “Inconsistent vocalization and very frequent strain in some of the top notes, although that can certainly be fixed,” Minseok comments, looking down at him and judging. “You’ve got a very nicely trained middle voice. I can see that you’ve taken good care of your voice,” he adds, the lines on his face growing noticeably softer and an accomplished smile creeps up Lu Han’s face.

“My voice isn’t the only thing I’ve taken and will always take good care of,” Lu Han says, slightly out of breath but smiles up at the man, anyway. “Look, Jongin is— I love Jongin,” Lu Han says, looking at Jongin fondly before shifting his glance back up. “You’ve raised him really, really well, and there’s far more than I can say.”

Minseok is still looking down at him, eyes attentive and searching. “And your point is?”

From the corners of his eyes, he can see Jongin nearing him and Lu Han holds out a hand for Jongin to take. “You’ve been the number one man in his life since he was a baby,” Lu Han starts, hand wrapping around Jongin in a warm and possessive grip. “I’d be the happiest person in the world if you’ll let me be the second best man he will ever have,” he adds. A pause, then, “I’m asking for your son’s hand in marriage.”

The giddiness is there again, the exhilirating air seeping deep and down to the very core of Lu Han’s veins. Minseok is quiet for a moment and Lu Han is too impatient for this.

But then Minseok’s mouth quirks up to the slightest hint of a smile and the next moment he’s saying, “I give you my blessing.”

 

-

 

“You should have told me that he loves singing to death because then I wouldn’t have to go through all those insults,” Lu Han whispers to Jongin as they stand on the altar, pressing close to Jongin's side and ignoring the officiant’s speech.

Jongin looks perfect in white, and Lu Han tries not to press his face against Jongin’s and kiss the life out of him and never pull away because considering the venue, he’s pretty sure that’s indecent behaviour. “You never asked,” Jongin whispers back.

“You know, music was my second major. I swear he would have accepted me right away if I'd sung from the start. I have a beautiful voice,” Lu Han tells Jongin, smiling.

Jongin smiles back. "I know. And you do have a beautiful voice, and an unhealthy level of confidence.”

"It's called self-appreciation," Lu Han says, eyes crinkling and he’s happy, truly immensely happy because Jongin is all he wants and he’s got him all to himself now.

 

With a quick glance to the side, Lu Han can see Minseok’s mouth twitch.

And Lu Han thinks that as long as Jongin is his, he can stand seeing bun face for another forty years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song is Rude by Magic!.


	6. Fetish / baekchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted may '15.
> 
> baekhyun/jongdae, baekhyun-centric, with brief mentions of other baekhyun pairings. pg, hs au, 400 words.
> 
> summary: byun baekhyun has a fetish.

Baekhyun has a fetish.

It's a major fetish for lips that tug up into a smile.

The first time he felt the exhilirating attraction was on his first day of freshman year, his heart leaping at thin, soft lips that pull up in a radiant glow. That was Kim Taeyeon, vice president of the student council.

The second time was clearer, slamming right at Baekhyun and dawning a realization in him that the flutter in his heart might most probably be due to pure adoration towards a smile that stretches into a teasing smirk, the ends tugging up with a mischievous glint. That was Huang Zitao, captain of the school's high jump club.

The third time was of irresistable full lips that were plump and enticing and seem to have a life of their own and _woah—is that a heart?_ That was Do Kyungsoo, model student and pride of class 11-C.

The fourth time was a little unexpected, a subtlety that involved white teeth flashing out of full lips that stretch into a wide, contagious grin. That was Park Chanyeol, bassist of the school's well-known band club.

Baekhyun's had it for long, a certain fondness that colours his dull world of lectures and extracurricular activities. It's always been practical and easy, and Baekhyun bathes under the pleasure and takes it for granted.

But that was before senior year.

That was before lips that tug up in a mischievous invitation and a tongue that swipes and licks and pulls at Baekhyun and Baekhyun doesn't know how to tear his gaze.

That was before a ringing laughter that is only slightly obnoxious and more of an addictive melody that replays itsef in Baekhyun's mind a lot more times than he'll ever want to admit.

That was before lips that pout and a certain perfectly misshaped adam's apple that bobs along with a whiny remark.

That was before the ends of lips that curl up into a pretty, pretty kittenish smile.

Now, Baekhyun has a fetish.

It's a fetish for long lashes and eyebrows that shoot up with mirth.

It's a fetish for hands that explore and linger too long on Baekhyun's wrist, clingy and possessive and warm.

It’s a fetish for instant comebacks and pierced ears and eyes that crinkle and a feline smile that is both electrifying and alluring at the same time.

Byun Baekhyun has a fetish.

His name is Kim Jongdae.


	7. That's How a Superhero Learns to Fly / chansoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted jun '15.
> 
> chanyeol/kyungsoo, mama powers au, pg-13, 3500 words.
> 
> summary: chanyeol has always wanted two things in his life: to lose himself high up in the skies and find someone else he desires to do it with.
> 
> warning: minor spoilers to Avengers: Age of Ultron.

Chanyeol bites into his honey bread and internally decides that he really does not appreciate Baekhyun's inquisitive nature.

"I've never thought that you'd fall for someone a lot shorter than you are," Baekhyun comments easily, like he's any better. "When are you planning to tell him, anyway? Oh, does he know yet?" Baekhyun continues to pry, leaning into the table and eyes dancing curiously as they stare at Chanyeol with more interest than there should be.

Chanyeol sighs. "It's just a crush, okay?"

Baekhyun gives him a look. "Don't lie to yourself, Chanyeol. Go tell him."

Chanyeol really doesn't need this at seven in the morning. "I can't even be with him, so why does it matter?"

It's not like Chanyeol doesn't care. He does like Kyungsoo, but it doesn't stretch far more than a mere crush. It can't. Kyungsoo and he, they're just...

They're too different.

"You’re partners. What do you mean you can't be with him?" Jongdae asks, pressing against Baekhyun's side and looking so comfortable as if he's always belonged there.

Jongdae has always been Baekhyun's pair, his power intertwining and dancing along with the latter's, never contradicting and only keeping close. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo are partners— _assigned_ partners.

"We're—" Chanyeol starts, but his words stop to a halt. The insides of his mouth tastes bitter and it takes him a moment to continue, “Kyungsoo's power is of the earth. We're different. We don't match."

The conversation ends there, Chanyeol abruptly standing up and making his way to put his empty plate into the sink. Even if he stays, Chanyeol doubts Baekhyun and Jongdae have anything to add.

-

All along, Chanyeol has thought that it has been Yifan. They are strong and the most compatible of partners, fighting crimes and putting justice as they fly above skyscrapers, Yifan's mighty wings putting strength into Chanyeol's weaker fire phoenix ones.

Chanyeol has thought that it is Yifan whom he’s meant for, until he’s proven wrong. Chanyeol tries to ignore the pain in his chest as he watches Sehun hold onto Yifan's hand, Yifan's wings flying through the gracefully flowing wind.

Pairs are never to be separated and Chanyeol knows he has no say in what belongs to Yifan and Sehun, so Chanyeol settles with his newly assigned partner. Baekhyun is crinkling eyes and a square grin that radiates light whenever it forms on his cheerful face and sometimes, Chanyeol falls a little too fast.

But Baekhyun is never meant for Chanyeol. And soon enough, Chanyeol is left alone yet again as Baekhyun's face lights up at Jongdae's presence, warmth and heat enveloping the two of them and barricading them from the rest of the world.

And then comes Kyungsoo.

-

"Quick!" Chanyeol calls out, looking back for a second to check for Kyungsoo, the latter already catching for breath and lacking several steps behind.

"Say that to my short legs!" Kyungsoo shouts back, chest heaving as he tries to keep up.

Chanyeol huffs out a short chuckle, only speeding up as he eyes the robber a few steps ahead of him. When Chanyeol reaches out to grab the back of the robber's shirt, fingers finding purchase but finding themselves unable, Kyungsoo shouts from behind, "Move!"

When Chanyeol looks back in confusion, Kyungsoo is leaping, as if flying forward in mid-air, and it takes less than a second for Chanyeol to realize what he meant, Chanyeol swiftly barreling to the side and clearing the space between Kyungsoo and the robber.

The asphalt cracks when the soles of Kyungsoo's shoes hit the ground, the beasty force radiating from his feet forcing the earth apart. Chanyeol watches as the robber's feet slip into the crack, arms flailing and screaming helplessly when he realizes too late that he's got both feet stuck in the ground.

Something that glints under the moonlight catches Chanyeol's attention and he grabs for the metal rod left unattended by the wall of the alley. Still splayed on the ground, Chanyeol looks up and smiles when he sees Kyungsoo stare at him with a grin on his face, both palms resting on hips and chest heaving as he tries to regain his breath.

"I was about to crack the ground enough for his whole body to sink down, but then I remember Junmyeon saying that we're not supposed to kill," Kyungsoo says, offering Chanyeol a hand. Chanyeol takes it, pulling himself up and hand lingering in Kyungsoo's grip for a little bit longer before retreating.

"I know," Chanyeol says, frowning a bit and bouncing the piece of metal rod in his hand. His palms have been itching to ignite and if he did allow them to, he would have burnt the back of the robber's shirt and caught him earlier during the run. Chanyeol chuckles. "He mentioned nothing about hurting, though."

Kyungsoo's grin only widens and Chanyeol takes that as a good sign. Soon enough, he's heating sections of the metal with his hands, curling the piece of rod around the robber's wrists and pointedly ignoring the robber's shrieks whenever his heated hands touch the robber's skin.

Kyungsoo drags the robber out of the crack, pushes the cracks closed with his feet and beams at Chanyeol as he declares, "Mission accomplished."

-

"What do you want to be if you weren't a superhero?"

They're perched at the high end of the ferris wheel, Kyungsoo with his feet propped up and elbows resting on his knees and Chanyeol with his feet dangling off the edges.

"I dunno. Something normal," Chanyeol says after a moment.

"Normal," Kyungsoo repeats, the word sliding easily off his tongue. His lips tug up at the sound of it, familiar yet far from reach. "Like what?"

Chanyeol muses at the question, eyes looking down at the tiny lights lining and decorating the city. "Have my own band," Chanyeol says. All of them wants to be normal. It's not rare that Chanyeol thinks of what he wants to be if he weren't what he is. "Play guitar in cafes. Something music related," he adds. "What about you?"

When he turns to face the other, Kyungsoo is looking forward, eyes focused on the clusters of light that make up the city. "I want to fly planes. Become a pilot," Kyungsoo tells him, eyes shining and shoulders relaxing.

Chanyeol wants to say that Kyungsoo's height won't allow him to become one and laugh at the joke when Kyungsoo does. He doesn't and chuckles instead when Kyungsoo stands up and says, "Shall I try?"

Now standing on the chunk of metal, Kyungsoo stretches his arms to his sides so that they form wings like those of an airplane's and laughs heartily when the wind starts blowing at his shirt and hair.

It’s colder up the ferris wheel, the wind stronger compared to that in the streets. With Kyungsoo's laughter flooding his ears and ringing in his mind, Chanyeol internally questions himself if he truly wants to be normal.

-

Cats are cute, lovable creatures, really, but Chanyeol can’t help the scowl on his face as he heaves to push Kyungsoo further up his shoulders, the latter pushing Chanyeol down as he reaches up to the injured cat.

“We control fire and possess incredible strength and they’re making us rescue a cat,” Chanyeol grumbles into his hoodie, hands aching as they push Kyungsoo up by the thighs. Chanyeol briefly contemplates on asking Kyungsoo if he can carry Chanyeol up with his power instead, but Kyungsoo isn’t that heavy, anyway, and Chanyeol will probably look somewhat weak noting that he’s pretty much larger than Kyungsoo is, so Chanyeol pushes the thought away.

“Not a cat. An injured cat,” Kyungsoo corrects, voice pleasant and calm as he pushes down at Chanyeol for the fifth time, finally getting his hands on the cat as it voluntarily climbs down to Kyungsoo’s embrace.

Chanyeol lets Kyungsoo down with a grunt, shoulders relaxing almost instantly. Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to notice his hardship, though, as he smiles down at the cat and caresses it gently, touches soft and careful as to not upset the fresh wound on its leg. Chanyeol smiles as he looks at Kyungsoo and the purring cat. He reaches out for it, Kyungsoo handing it to him carefully and the cat nuzzling into Chanyeol’s arms as he envelopes it within his arms.

It happens in an instant, almost immediately, Chanyeol realizing it a little too late. He sneezes into the cat, his face going from contorting to grimacing as sharp claws paw at his face and Chanyeol pulls away, screeching as he hears Kyungsoo yell out something before the cat is pulled away from him.

“ _Shit!_ ” Freaking allergies.

“Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo calls out, voice worried. His face is creased in concern when Chanyeol looks up from where he’s clutching at his left cheek, skin stinging. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, then adds, “I’m fine.” It’s most probably not a deep cut, the pain only there because it’s fresh and new. Chanyeol straightens himself up. “Let’s bring it to the vet,” he says, managing a smile at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo eyes him in mild apprehension before giving him a light nod, hand absently smoothing out over the back fur of the cat.

Chanyeol hides the scratch on his left cheek with a hand as they drop the cat at a nearby vet, leaving their chief, Junmyeon’s number and telling the administration that someone will be back to fetch the cat the next day. They find stray animals on the roads at times, and it never fails to fascinate Chanyeol how Minseok’s home is always open for stray cats and Jongin stray dogs.

Kyungsoo tugs at Chanyeol’s free hand once they’re out of the clinic, pulling him towards the drugstore next door and getting antiseptic and a small pack of adhesive bandages, all the while holding at Chanyeol’s hand, and Chanyeol finds a soft smile tug at his face as he trails along wordlessly.

It’s dark out, the street lights barely illuminating the area. They sit at one of the outdoor cafes, Kyungsoo pulling his own chair towards Chanyeol’s, quiet and features soft as he gets the antiseptic. Chanyeol watches him with a fond smile, eyes on Kyungsoo and trying not to wrinkle as Kyungsoo dabs antiseptic at the scratch, the fresh wound pricking against the touch. He tries to ignore the pain and settles on watching Kyungsoo instead, the latter leaning away only slightly to examine the wound, brows knitted and gaze serious.

“Don’t get too near to animals. It’s dangerous,” Kyungsoo tells him, already tearing at the pack of bandages. Chanyeol hums in reply as Kyungsoo retrieves two small bandages and reaches up to stick said bandages on the wound with the gentle press of his thumbs.

Kyungsoo is close, so close and Chanyeol can feel the light brush of Kyungsoo’s breath against his skin as Kyungsoo drops one of his hands but not the other, instead grazing it down Chanyeol’s cheek and along his jaw. Kyungsoo leans in to place a kiss against the dent of Chanyeol’s dimple, the unexpected action causing Chanyeol’s eyes to widen.

“Kissed it better,” Kyungsoo says, a heart shaped smile now on his lips as he brushes his thumb over the edge of the bandage on Chanyeol’s cheek, eyes kind and warm.

They walk home hand in hand later that night, Kyungsoo’s hand enveloped in Chanyeol’s bigger and warmer one and Chanyeol thinks the warmth spreading in his chest is definitely not from the fire.

-

Weeks before winter are always cold, the autumn breeze chilly and prickling against the skin. Chanyeol keeps warm by radiating heat from his body, the flame underneath his skin not strong enough to burn but warm enough to provide him with an insulating layer of warmth. The jumbo-sized packet of french fries in his grip are kept hot and crispy by the heat radiating from the tips of his fingers. Kyungsoo keeps warm by pressing close to Chanyeol's side.

"You know, you kind of remind me of Sehun," Kyungsoo says, snatching a fry from Chanyeol and keeping close as they shuffle along the sidewalk.

"Who?" Chanyeol asks, not really paying attention and distracted by the occasional cars that pass by.

"Sehun," Kyungsoo repeats, munching on his fries and catching up with Chanyeol's longer strides. Chanyeol slows down. "He was my partner for some time," he adds, voice slightly muffled from where he's dipping his head low under his upturned collar to keep warm, but Chanyeol hears him clearly.

Sehun. Chanyeol knows Sehun. Sehun, the one who controls the wind. Sehun—Yifan’s pair.

Chanyeol pops a fry in his mouth. "How are we alike?" he asks, glancing down at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo laughs. "No, not alike at all,” Kyungsoo corrects him, one hand pulling out from the pocket of his coat to rest against Chanyeol’s forearm and pulling him in. “You two are complete opposites.” Kyungsoo’s hand dips down to slip fingers in between Chanyeol’s longer, sturdy ones. “It’s windy around Sehun. Cold.” When Chanyeol turns at the sudden contact, Kyungsoo is smiling, eyes forward and glinting under the street lights. "It's warm with you.”

Chanyeol feels his chest fill with warmth and innerly hopes that the heat his hand is radiating isn’t too much for Kyungsoo. If it is, Kyungsoo doesn’t show it. Chanyeol slips their intertwined hands into the pocket of his coat and holds.

-

Work days are mostly always tiring, and sometimes they crash at the other’s house, too tired to move. Tonight is no different, having dealt with putting out a flat fire several blocks down Chanyeol’s house. Lids drowsy and limbs aching wih fatigue, an hour later finds themselves slumped in Chanyeol’s couch and watching Avengers: Age of Ultron as Chanyeol lets Kyungsoo lean against his chest and pick at his chips.

Chanyeol watches Bruce Banner struggle to keep control over Hulk and hears Kyungsoo chuckle beside him. “Good thing my incredible strength doesn’t require me to turn to some green monster thing,” Kyungsoo says, smiling around chips.

Natasha Romanoff comes into the picture, helping Bruce Banner calm himself down and it fascinates Chanyeol how gentle the competitive superheroine is at heart. Chanyeol smiles. “People will probably get terrified of you at first, but it can’t be that bad, really. I bet you’d be pretty lovable.”

Kyungsoo lets out another chuckle, the sound vibrating down where his body presses against Chanyeol’s. “Let’s see if you can still say that when I’m dauntingly large and incredibly strong and am crushing you down my enormous weight because I’m a mindless savage.”

Bruce Banner finally gets to calm himself down and transform back from Hulk. “You know, I’d still like you even if you were Hulk,” Chanyeol says before he can think twice, freezing almost instantly and hopes that Kyungsoo doesn’t notice.

Kyungsoo does turn to look at him for a moment but doesn’t voice anything out loud and they go quiet after that, Kyungsoo munching at the chips as they watch the rest of the movie in silence. They’re somewhere around Ultron capturing Natasha Romanoff when Kyungsoo finally says, “Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol looks down, slightly startled, and catches a glimpse of the almost empty bowl. They’re running out of chips. “Yeah?”

Kyungsoo is quiet for a moment, seemingly hesitant, then, “Can I kiss you?”

In the background, Bruce Banner rescues Natasha Romanoff from where she’s captured as the other members of the Avengers fight against Ultron’s army. Chanyeol doesn’t think of the empty bowl of chips in his hands, doesn’t think of the Avengers’ struggle as they fight and evacuate at the same time. Instead, he looks at Kyungsoo and thinks of how he, despite his denial, has grown to love Kyungsoo more and more every passing day.

“Yes.”

-

It's always been slow and careful, the way they melt into each other and mold their relationship into something deeper, something more. Chanyeol hopes they can go past whatever holds them back, but fear isn't something he can ignore.

Chanyeol is scared of very few things, but anything that has something to do with Kyungsoo plays a big part. Chanyeol is scared of getting burns on Kyungsoo's body when Kyungsoo is pressing too close and Chanyeol is too distracted to hold back. So whenever he touches and holds, it’s feathery and with the least pressure he can manage. The problem with that is that Kyungsoo is never hesitant as he archs into him, eyes dark and heavy with want as they look down at Chanyeol’s.

Chanyeol rolls up against Kyungsoo and bathes under the gasps coming out from Kyungsoo’s mouth as he kisses hard. “Don’t ever leave me,” Chanyeol says into the kiss before tugging at Kyungsoo’s lower lip, sucking hard.

Kyungsoo chuckles. “What are you talking about? I won’t ever leave you,” Kyungsoo says, smiling against the kiss and moving to lace his hand with Chanyeol’s. At the abrupt contact, Chanyeol pulls back instinctively, suddenly aware of how close Kyungsoo is, how hot Kyungsoo’s breath is against his skin and how, if Chanyeol presses just a bit closer, his skin might ignite and hurt Kyungsoo. Chanyeol would never want that.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says, body still. Not wanting this to end, Chanyeol cranes his neck upwards to kiss Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo pulls away, startled and confused eyes staring down into Chanyeol’s as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

Chanyeol stares back, breath heavy and feeling the muscles in his arms tense from desire and hesitance combined. “Nothing,” he says after a moment.

Kyungsoo frowns. “If it’s—” Kyungsoo starts, his other hand retreating from where it’s pressing palm flat on Chanyeol’s chest to instead rest by Chanyeol’s side, propping himself up and away and Chanyeol suddenly feels a little too cold. “If it’s nothing, then why am I always the only one touching? Do you—Do you not want me?” Kyungsoo’s face falls and Chanyeol feels his heart sink.

It fascinates Chanyeol how the beast in Kyungsoo shows whenever he looks into his eyes, and Chanyeol wonders if Kyungsoo can see the flame in him and realize that they’re different. It scares Chanyeol than any other because he’s afraid that when he looks up, it’s too late and Kyungsoo is gone.

“There’s fire in me, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says, finally letting it out because there’s no point in holding it in. “We’re not—It’s—You don’t understand.”

“It’s bullshit if I don’t understand, that’s what. I have a freaking beast in me, Chanyeol,” he says, voice raised as he looks down at Chanyeol in disbelief. “Are you scared of my power? Are you scared of me?”

“I’m not scared of you,” Chanyeol says, shaking his head because he doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want this argument.

“And here you are not wanting to touch me because you’re scared of hurting me,” Kyungsoo tells him, brows furrowed in exasperation.

“I want to touch you,” Chanyeol corrects.

At this, Kyungsoo’s face softens and after a moment, Kyungsoo is leaning in slightly, one hand easing down Chanyeol’s arm and mouth hovering above Chanyeol’s. “Then touch me.”

All this time, Chanyeol has been too blind to notice the obvious. Chanyeol's mind has been clouded by the thought of them being different, and as Kyungsoo tells him those three words, Chanyeol stops searching and realizes. Realizes that what has been holding him back is not the difference between him and Kyungsoo, but the fear that Kyungsoo will eventually leave him if he goes far too close than what is the right distance, just like how Yifan and Baekhyun have left him.

Because Chanyeol is lost and confused. He's scared that if he holds on too tightly, kyungsoo will slip off his grips and be gone forever. Because all this time, he's too wrapped up in the thought that he's scared of hurting Kyungsoo, when in reality Chanyeol is scared of hurting _himself_.

But right now, the boundary is gone and Kyungsoo is looking into his eyes and giving him the permission to lean in and close whatever distance is left between them, to touch and hold Kyungsoo, to make him his.

Tonight, Chanyeol looks up at the writhing mess in his enveloping arms, fingernails gritting down the pale skin of Kyungsoo's back and mouth finding purchase on Kyungsoo's wanting lips.

Tonight, as he feels Kyungsoo's breath hot against his, Chanyeol digs fingers and teeth into Kyungsoo because Kyungsoo is his and his only.

Tonight, Chanyeol holds Kyungsoo close and doesn't let go.

-

"I don't think I'll ever want a life other than the one I'm living right now," Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo, shoulders relaxing as he feels Kyungsoo's weight press against his.

They're high up the ferris wheel again, but this time, Chanyeol's hand is wrapped securely around Kyungsoo's smaller one as he looks down at Kyungsoo, feeling the warmth of his body and watching the serene expression on his face.

"I don't think I do either," Kyungsoo says, both ends of his lips tugging up into a heart-shaped smile.

When Chanyeol looks into Kyungsoo's eyes, he sees the countless pairs of glinting beasty eyes stare back at him, shining orbs akin to stars in the night sky. And for the first time, Chanyeol finds himself wanting something more than to fly up in the skies and reach for the stars.

He wants Kyungsoo. And Kyungsoo he has.


	8. He Got Me Bad / sekai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted jul '15.
> 
> sehun/jongin, with side baekxing and brief chansoo. pg-13, hs au, 3800 words.
> 
> summary: sehun tries to woo resident hottie kim jongin with his amazingly brilliant ideas.
> 
> warning: suggestive language hur hur

“Goodness, Sehun, stop staring. You’re drooling all over our table,” Baekhyun grumbles from where he’s poking at his sandwich.

Sehun ignores him, instead continues to stare at that amazing pair of finely sculpted arms. “Damn, look at those arms.”

“ _Whose_ arms?”

“ _Those_ arms.”

“Because the last time you said that, it was soccer guy Kim Minseok, and the other last time it was choir boy Kim Jongdae, and the other _other_ last time it was that other choir boy Do Kyungsoo, and the other other other—”

“Shut up. Those were sophomore year, okay?” Sehun says, finally looking at Baekhyun. “Look, I’m a senior now and I figure it’s time to have some serious relationship. You know?” he adds, with a hopefully more serious tone.

“Nice resolution,” Yixing comments, head nodding absently in acknowledgment.

Baekhyun stares at Sehun for a moment, shares a look with Yixing, then shrugs. “Okay. Who’s the victim this time?”

“Kim Jongin,” Sehun says easily, arms folded and leaning back on his chair.

“Interesting,” Yixing says and Sehun is grateful for the commentary. At least Yixing, he appreciates.

“And you’re going to make him date you how?” Baekhyun asks, eyebrows raised.

“By executing brilliant ideas that I think with my amazing brain.”

“Brilliant ideas my ass,” Baekhyun snorts. “Talk about that time you practically gave Do Kyungsoo a lap dance in his Physics class which resulted in the two of you being dragged into the principal’s office and for Kyungsoo to glare at you for the rest of the semester. And that time you tried to feed Kim Jongdae peanut butter sandwich and finding out too late that he’s allergic to peanut, and—”

“Yixing,” Sehun calls out, cutting Baekhyun off mid-sentence. “Remind me why Baekhyun’s sitting with me?”

Baekhyun hisses an ‘I hate you’ as Yixing gives Sehun a contemplative look before calmly explaining, “Well, I’m your best friend, and Baekhyun’s my boyfriend. So we all sit together.”

Sehun nods at Yixing. “Right. Go get a new boyfriend.”

-

“Hey,” Sehun says the next day as he slides into the row of lockers that obviously does not accommodate his own, pointedly ignoring the confused look Baekhyun is giving him from where their lockers are.

Glorious face turns to face him. “Hey.”

“I’m Sehun. Not that I have to tell you because you know who I am, obviously,” Sehun says, leaning against a locker and watching as amazing side profile Kim Jongin fiddles with his things.

“I do. Yes,” Jongin says, amused. “I’m Jongin.”

The hallway is packed, students squeezing through the crowded space, and Sehun tries not to snap at the occasional brush Jongin gets whenever someone passes right behind him. The possessiveness can wait. “I know. What are you doing?”

Jongin halts, stares at Sehun for a moment, still sporting the amused expression. “Taking some of my first period stuff?”

Sehun blinks lazily. “Sounds like a drag. You know what you should be doing instead?”

“What?” Jongin asks distractedly, sorting out assignment papers. Sehun never sorts out his papers. He just stuffs them in his bag. Duh?

“Me.” Damn smooth, Sehun, damn smooth.

Jongin doesn’t say anything, just closes his locker as the bell rings and gives Sehun a small handsome smile before he leaves for class. Sehun internally praises his intelligent self.

Brilliant idea number one: check.

-

Sehun and Yixing are perhaps the most unexpected combination of friends. Where Sehun sports a bitch face, Yixing winks with a cute dimple and an enticing smile. Where Sehun is tall and lanky and moves with fluidity, Yixing is all about strength and precision and firmly built body muscles. Where Sehun is mostly always bored and prefers doing things his own practical way, Yixing is considerate and carefree and goes with the flow.

But see, they are the best of friends, met in dance team, Sehun telling Yixing his ways of languid body waves and Yixing teaching Sehun to not force dance moves into the brain and instead let the body memorize them. Most of all, they are friends because Sehun is awesome and thinks that Yixing is awesome (which he is) and they are, thus, friends.

Between them is practiced ease of mutual understanding and silent agreement of an unspoken limit of interfering with each other’s individual activities. Which is mostly why Yixing never bothers with Sehun’s weird stash of… something, and Sehun never bothers with Yixing’s basketball matches. Fair enough.

That provides a few other advantages for Sehun, too, one of which is that he doesn’t have to pay extra attention to understand how this basketball thing actually works. So Sehun figures, it’d be more embarrassing to cheer for Jongin at the first ever basketball match he’s ever watched and knows jack shit about, than to run across the basketball court chanting Jongin’s name and waving about a pair of pompoms he’s stolen from one of the cheerleaders.

Sehun grins accomplishedly when he sees Jongin turn to face him, a confused and highly amused expression on his face. “Kim Jongin! Kim Jongin!” Sehun continues to scream excitedly as he makes his way through the court and sways the pompoms in his hands wildly, ignoring how literally every pairs of eyes in the school stadium has turned to face him with various degrees of perplexity and mirth.

In one of the spectator benches, Baekhyun looks severely mortified and Sehun grins at Yixing who looks mildly amused as he sits at one of the courtside bleachers with the rest of the players.

Sehun makes a turn at the end of the court, now making his way back towards where he started and still chanting, “Kim Jongin! Kim Jongin! Kim Jongin!” before returning the pompoms to one of the cheerleaders that is still gaping unattractively at him.

Right before making his way out of the stadium, Sehun looks back and catches Jongin stare at him, brows raised and a smirk on his face. Sehun would like to think it looks inviting. It really does.

Yet another brilliant idea very marvelously done.

-

Sehun shoves a pencil and several sheets of paper he’s torn from his notebook into his pocket, raises his hand, excuses himself from History class and heads to the restroom at the end of the hallway.

Except he doesn’t head to the restroom.

Sehun walks past two other classes and stops when he reaches the hallway just outside class 12-C, peeking at the Chemistry teacher inside. He makes his way towards the line of windows lining the wall that separates the classroom and the hallway and only stops when he reaches the last window at the backmost of the classroom. Sehun waves at the student sitting by the window and motions her to unlock the window for him. The girl gives him a weird look but quietly unlocks it for him anyway, sliding it open enough for a hand to past through.

Sehun muffles a chuckle, crouches down and takes out the pen and papers he’s shoved into his pocket. He scribbles on a paper, folds it into a paper plane and stands back up before throwing it into the classroom, aiming at his target sitting sleepily at one of the last row seats. It hits Jongin right on the head. Bullseye.

Jongin looks down at where the paper plane has fallen onto his hand, then to where it came from and finally at Sehun, then glances at the Chemistry teacher who’s writing on the board and back at Sehun before finally opening the paper plane. He raises an eyebrow. It reads: _HEY._

A second paper plane hits him on the head before Jongin can react. Sehun waves and smiles when Jongin throws him a confused look. Jongin opens the paper plane. It reads: _SORRY IT HIT YOUR HEAD._

Behind the wall, Sehun gets down to scribble on another piece of paper. This time, it doesn’t hit Jongin on the head. It drops on the floor by Jongin’s table and he checks on the teacher before ducking down to pick it up. The paper reads: _SLEEPY? DON’T WORRY. I’LL MAKE CHEM FUN FOR YOU._ Sehun gets an amused smile from Jongin and hunkers back down.

When Sehun gets back up with another paper plane in hand, he ignores the curious looks half of the class is giving him and throws the paper plane at Jongin. From where he’s sitting with a neglected Chemistry textbook on his desk, Jongin has a cute little frown on his face as he reads the paper, blinking at it cluelessly. _WHAT DID ONE ION SAY TO THE OTHER?_

Jongin picks up a notebook from under his desk and flips to an empty page before writing something on it. He lifts the opened notebook and faces it to Sehun, his face facing forward but eyes expectant as he sideglances at Sehun. Some of the other students try to steal a peek at it. Sehun glances at the Chemistry teacher before poking his head further up the confines of the wall to take a better look. It says in huge, bold letters: _WHAT?_

Sehun hunches back down and writes on another piece of paper, all the while forcing down a smile. He flies the paper plane through the window. It lands right on Jongin’s desk. Jongin glances at Sehun before opening the paper, a smile instantly forcing itself on Jongin’s face as he reads what’s written on it: _I’VE GOT MY ION YOU._

Jongin is sporting a really wide smile as he leans back on his chair, eyes on the unfolded paper in his hands. He doesn’t look at Sehun, just continues to smile and tries to hide it by running a hand up the side of his face, feet thumping silently against the floor.

Sehun pumps a victorious fist into the air.

A very angry something sounds from the other end of the classroom.

“OH SEHUN!” Sehun’s head snaps towards the Chemistry teacher, an apparent scowl on his very much wrinkled face and Sehun quickly grabs his pencil and papers before sprinting towards the restroom, grinning excitedly as the image of Jongin’s coy smile replays itself in his mind.

-

The next day finds Sehun leaning against the locker beside Jongin’s after classes are dismissed. “Hey,” Jongin greets Sehun with a small smile on his face from where he’s dumping his books into his locker. Jongin isn’t alone.

Sehun gulps down the urge to flinch when he sees Kyungsoo standing beside Jongin and glowering at Sehun very pointedly. Baekhyun was apparently wrong when he stated that Sehun barging into Kyungsoo’s Physics class and almost lewdly grinding on him has resulted in Kyungsoo glaring at Sehun for the whole second semester of sophomore year because apparently, it’s been one and a half year since the two of them have last sat in the principal’s office and Kyungsoo still has his eyes shoot lasers at Sehun very, very angrily.

“Hi, Jongin,” Sehun says and tries to not look uncomfortable, which is pretty hard considering that Kyungsoo is still looking like he wants to kick Sehun out of the window. Which, perhaps, he really does. “Oh, come on. It’s not like I’m going to give you another lap dance. I’m not here for you, anyway,” Sehun says, trying to look at Kyungsoo and hoping the latter doesn’t explode.

Between them, Jongin chuckles. “So Sehun was the one who got you into the principal’s office that one time?”

“I did, but—”

“Hey, ready for the arcades?” sounds in a significantly low, cheerful voice as a lanky arm slips to rest on Kyungsoo’s waist easily. Sehun recognizes him, Chanyeol, one of the members of the basketball team who has huge ears and huge eyes and a huge smile and just, huge everything. “Oh. Hello,” Chanyeol says when his eyes land on Sehun, brows fused but still smiling.

Kyungsoo sighs. “We’ll see you there,” he tells Jongin, ignoring Sehun as he walks away from the lockers, pulling along a fascinated Chanyeol.

Another chuckle and Sehun thinks that he can really get used to the wonderful sound of it. “Don’t take it to heart. Kyungsoo is just kind of sensitive when it has something to do with the disciplinary record,” Jongin tells him, eyes warm and smile playful.

Sehun licks his lips. “Look, that was sophomore year. I was— It was a stupid thing to do.”

Jongin gives him a raised eyebrow. “And?” he asks, smiling softly. Sehun thinks it’s a pretty look.

“And I’m sorry. I’m not planning to do it again,” Sehun says, watching as Jongin locks his locker shut.

Jongin turns to face him, body leaning against his own locker and arms folded. “No, I was trying to ask why you’re telling me all these when you should probably be telling it to Kyungsoo?”

Sehun licks his lips again. It feels dry, what with them standing barely a locker apart. Jongin is looking at him very intently and Sehun can smell what is probably Jongin’s cologne. “I dunno. I just thought that maybe you’d be concerned of me possibly grinding on you in your Physics class?” Sehun is aware of the amused expression on Jongin’s face. He’s also aware that his brain to mouth filter isn’t working really well right now.

Jongin’s mouth twitches, a small upward tug on his smile. “And why would I be concerned of that?”

Sehun is getting really confused. “Because it might get us into the principal’s office. You wouldn’t want that.” Isn’t it obvious?

Jongin exhales, looks really attractive with that subtle smile on his face and brushes his hair back. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want that.” He pushes himself away from where he’s leaning against his locker and adjusts the strap of his backpack on his shoulder with a swift tug. Sehun watches as Jongin pulls away and walks backwards into the packed hallway. “You know, I wouldn’t mind you grinding on me, though,” he adds, a hint of a smirk on his face before he turns and disappears into the sea of people moving throughout the hallway.

Sehun watches, unmoving as he makes another lick at his lips because what was that again?

-

“I say we get him a beer belt.”

Yixing is having one of his basketball practices and here they are again, arguing on what present they should get for Yixing’s upcoming birthday as they stand in line for lunch, Sehun with his nose high and Baekhyun looking like he has the face of an ugly scowling piglet as a default facial expression. “How lame is that? Why would he even need a beer belt?”

Sehun snorts, incredulous. “For drinking, of course.”

“Yixing doesn’t even drink. What kind of friend are you?” Baekhyun side glances at Sehun, face judging and picking a boiled egg. “I still say we get him an apron.”

Sehun gets himself a boiled egg and makes to skip the vegetables section and wilts when one of the cafeteria aunties gives him a pointed look. He pouts and reaches for the veggies half-heartedly. “Just because you have a kink for Yixing wearing a—”

“I do not!” Baekhyun denies, voice a little too loud. When he catches a few people around him turn to look, he hunches down, shoves more vegetables into Sehun’s plate and grumbles under his breath, “Eat your veggies.”

Sehun hisses at Baekhyun and makes to return the veggies back before immediately retreating when the previous auntie turns to him with a raised brow. “We’re getting him a beer belt. Period,” he glowers, giving Baekhyun a light push.

Baekhyun stumbles forward before scowling back at Sehun. “No, we’re not. We’re getting him an apron because I’m his boyfriend and therefore knows him better.”

Sehun gapes. “Well, I’m his _best_ friend and therefore knows him better than you do.”

Baekhyun huffs at him, frowning pointedly as he picks at a piece of watermelon. “Obviously, I know him better because I know that he likes cooking which means that we’re definitely getting him an apron,” he states, voice harsh but manages to keep it low.

“Why don’t we just buy separate presents, anyway?” Sehun grumbles and picks three pieces of watermelon because Sehun loves his watermelons.

“Because it’s cheaper this way, dumbass,” Baekhyun says, kicking Sehun lightly.

Sehun opens his mouth to retort but doesn’t get to when he feels a firm hand grab at his ass and squeeze and what the fuck because Sehun really doesn’t need this extremely indecent and inappropriate behavior when he’s in the middle of quarreling with—

Sehun turns to see Jongin.

A very handsome Jongin with amazing body proportions and wide shoulders and toned leg muscles who is lean and sporting a very attractive subtle smile at Sehun. Oh.

 _Oh_.

“Whoa, he’s got game,” Sehun says, almost whistles, as he watches with utter fascination at Jongin who sashays away very enticingly. He lets his eyes wander on the too-tight pants that hug Jongin’s back and doesn’t hesitate to add, “I’m definitely going to get my hands on that marvelous piece of ass.”

“Goodness, Sehun. You’re gross,” Baekhyun tells him, looking like he might throw up at any moment as they walk away from the line, Baekhyun searching for an empty table.

“And you’re not? You touch Yixing’s butt like it’s your own,” Sehun retorts.

Baekhyun’s facial expression does a 180-degree turn and he’s smirking when Sehun turns to face him. “Wrong, because I touch Yixing’s butt more than I do mine,” he declares, smiling proudly and Sehun’s glad he hasn’t eaten yet or he’d probably puke right then right there. “Yixing has a really cute butt.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Yixing sports a rather confused smile as he slips in between the two, hand coming up to stabilize Baekhyun’s food tray from overturning from where Baekhyun’s jerked at Yixing’s sudden presence. “I—”

“You were talking about my butt, yes? Do carry on. Don’t mind me,” Yixing says, a dimpled smile on his face as he leads them to an empty table.

Baekhyun stammers, “We weren’t—”

“We were talking about what to get you for your birthday tomorrow,” Sehun tells Yixing, setting his food tray on the table and taking his seat across the couple.

Baekhyun’s face goes from mildly startled to relieved to shocked to mad at mostly Sehun. He huffs, “Sehun!”

-

They end up getting Yixing a guitar pick puncher.

He likes it, has one of the broadest smiles Sehun has ever seen on him even. Sehun thinks it’s only fair that Yixing return the favor.

“Set me up on a date with Jongin,” Sehun says, dropping himself by the wall beside Yixing in between one of their dance practices and pointing past Yixing for his water bottle.

“What?” Yixing asks with a weird look on his face, handing Sehun his bottle and gulping down water from his own.

“You’re on the basketball team. Come on, set us up and be a good friend,” Sehun says, receiving his bottle and definitely does not whine.

Yixing turns to him, a small confused frown on his face. “I’m already a good friend.”

“You are.” Sehun halts and licks his lips. He gulps his drink down. “But you still should— Hey, you guys won that match last week, right?” he asks, leaning in to crowd over Yixing and eyes bright as an idea takes form in his head. Yixing hums. “Do you like, celebrate and stuff?”

“I guess,” Yixing muses. “We’re planning on watching a movie this Saturday.”

Across the room, the choreographer claps, indicating the start of another round of exhausting practice. “Great,” Sehun says delightedly, feeling weirdly accomplished.

Sometimes, realization dawns a little too late. When Yixing turns to face Sehun, the latter is already standing up, a brilliant smile on his face. “Sehun, no.”

“Thanks, Xing Xing. I love you!” Sehun says as he skips away to his position and grins when he catches Yixing slide a hand down his own face – at Sehun’s marvelous idea or at the nickname, Sehun isn’t really sure. Sehun is simply extremely glad to have a helpful friend like Yixing.

-

Sehun grips at the cold drink in his hand as he walks down the cinema stairs. The lights have already been turned off and a trailer is playing on the screen. He slips into an empty seat.

“So Yixing somehow convincing me to sit beside an empty chair was your plan,” sounds from beside him. Sehun slips his drink into the drink holder and turns to see Jongin already looking at him, chin propped on a hand. Sehun is really enjoying the lack of distance between their faces.

“Maybe,” Sehun says, resting his arm on the shared armrest, pressing it against Jongin’s. On the screen, the last trailer ends and the movie starts. Sehun keeps his eyes forward but leans slightly into Jongin, keeping his voice low as he says, “Congrats on winning the game.”

“Thanks,” Jongin says, voice closer and hand warm against Sehun. He adds, “For cheering me up.”

Sehun smiles, both at the memory and the pleasant sound of Jongin’s voice. “No problem.”

On the screen, a well-groomed man in a suit enters what looks like a tailor. For a moment, Sehun thinks he’s entered the wrong cinema room because he’s pretty sure he’s bought a ticket for an action movie. He shrugs it off when he feels the warmth against his arm shift and Jongin is already leaning closer into his side, their shoulders touching. “So you were serious when you told me to do you instead,” is whispered at him, close and distinct and Sehun turns to Jongin who has his eyes forward and face just a tad bit closer to Sehun’s.

“Definitely, yes,” Sehun says. The screen shows a guy getting angry over another who’s doing some crazy trick with his car. Sehun doesn’t know what’s really going on there, doesn’t bother paying attention to it. His attention is on Jongin, the relaxed press of his shoulder against Sehun’s and the occasional sound of Jongin munching at his popcorn. When Sehun inhales, he can smell Jongin’s cologne and the mild scent of his shampoo. “So date me.”

The munching stops. When Sehun turns to look, their eyes meet, Jongin sporting his trademark smile that Sehun thinks looks very endearing on him. “Okay,” Jongin answers confidently.

Sehun raises a brow and doesn’t fight down the smile already forcing itself onto his face. “Is that an answer because I wasn’t asking.”

Jongin chuckles lightly, the sound melodious in Sehun’s ears, before he pulls away and lifts the armrest separating the two of them. “Then I guess I don’t really have a choice,” Jongin tells him, moving closer so his side presses against Sehun and Sehun grins so wide his eyes form crescents.

They spend the rest of the movie giggling at each other and making out and feeding each other popcorn as sehun sports an accomplished smile on his face because he finally gets to touch Jongin’s marvelous butt. That, and Jongin’s heart, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the movie they were watching is Kingsman: The Secret Service. the chemistry pickup line isn't mine. i got it off somewhere on the internet.


	9. Welcome Home / various pairings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally posted jul '15.
> 
> pairings: minseok/junmyeon, yixing/lu han, yifan/chanyeol, baekhyun/kyungsoo, zitao/jongdae, jongin/sehun.
> 
> pg-13, 4700 words.
> 
> summary: twelve souls, six homes.
> 
> warnings for the taochen part: cat hybrids, with mentions of dubcon and violence.
> 
> inspired by the song [Welcome Home by Radical Face](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P8a4iiOnzsc).

**Minseok/Junmyeon**

_Was never much_  
_But we’ve made the most_

It’s dark by the time Minseok gets off work, having changed out of his work clothes and waving at his fellow workers as he makes his way to the bus stop. A twenty-minute bus ride from the theme park and Minseok arrives home, a small house by the countryside with a small yard and a few flowerbeds.

It only takes Minseok several steps into the house before he finds Junmyeon in the kitchen closing the sink tap and drying his hands on a cloth. It’s a good back view and Minseok stands there, takes the time to appreciate the aesthetic pleasure of it with a smile on his face before Junmyeon turns around. The smile on Minseok’s face doesn’t fade, widens even, because the front view is always better.

“The electricity bill is overdue,” Junmyeon says, face serious as he leans his back against the kitchen counter.

Minseok halts, blinks at Junmyeon before he places his satchel bag on the dinner table quietly. “I was hoping for something more relaxed,” he starts. “Like, perhaps, _How was your day?_ ” he says, a small playful smile.

“I’m being serious right now,” Junmyeon tells him, face rigid and body tense.

Minseok looks at him fully, smile still intact. “I can see that.”

Junmyeon sighs. He reaches up to brush his hair back with a hand, face creased, and finally lets out, “I need to go and get groceries but if I do we won’t have enough to pay for the upcoming bills—”

“Junmyeon.”

“—and the overdue electricity bill and its interest and—”

“Honey—”

“What?” Junmyeon snaps before his face softens and he lets out a heavy exhale, dropping more of his weight against the counter.

Minseok walks to him, pace calm and sure, choosing to ignore the tense atmosphere surrounding his husband. This is what a relationship is – opposite sides that attract and pull close. Junmyeon is nervous and gets agitated easily. Minseok just has to do the opposite. Pretty easy; he’s already calm by nature. It keeps the balance between them.

Minseok reaches out to hold Junmyeon by the hips, hands warm and reassuring as he looks Junmyeon right in the eye. It’s easy to do so – they’re the same height – easy to lean in and kiss Junmyeon on the lips and the jaw, easy to slip his fingers under Junmyeon’s shirt and rub soothing circles against the soft skin above his hipbones as he relishes in the soft sighs that Junmyeon lets out.

There is a tiny frown on Junmyeon’s face when he reaches up to press a palm against Minseok’s clothed chest, hand warm as it smoothes out the front absently. Minseok watches as Junmyeon’s shoulders relax.

“We’re living just fine,” Minseok says, eyes never leaving Junmyeon’s beautiful ones as he steps closer.

Junmyeon gives him repeated small nods before sighing and wrapping his arms around Minseok’s shoulders, face pressed against his neck. Minseok hugs him tight.

They stay like that for a long while, just like that, both securely wrapped in each other’s embrace as Junmyeon buries his face into Minseok’s neck and Minseok presses soft, reassuring kisses into Junmyeon’s hair.

 

-

 

**Yifan/Chanyeol**

_All my nightmares escape my head_  
_Bar the door, please don’t let them in_

Yifan straightens himself up when the elevator sounds, walking out of it and into the hallway, hands empty except for the leather briefcase in one hand and a suit jacket slung practically over the other forearm. Three years ago, Yifan would walk home with a gift or two, usually a box of exquisite chocolate from the store across his office building. Now, Yifan knows he doesn’t need to.

When Yifan locks into his apartment, the lights are already off. Yifan toes out of his shoes, stepping out of it. It’s slightly cold. Perhaps the cold has seeped out of the airconditioned bedroom from where Chanyeol’s left the door open.

Bingo. Yifan makes his way to the bedroom, only stopping to drop his briefcase and suit jacket onto the sofa in the living room, and finds the bedroom door slightly open. He walks in and smiles almost instantly when he sees Chanyeol in the middle of the bed, sitting cross-legged with his back hunched, reading a book.

“Welcome home,” Chanyeol greets him without lifting his head from the book he’s reading, flipping to the next page with a soft smile on his face.

“Hey,” Yifan says, smile widening. He takes some fresh clothes before walking into the bathroom to wash himself.

Chanyeol is still reading on the bed when Yifan walks out of the bathroom. He makes his way towards the bed and then Chanyeol, arms slipping to wrap around Chanyeol’s middle and pressing his front against Chanyeol’s back, an easy fit. Yifan rests his chin on Chanyeol’s shoulder and nuzzles his nose into Chanyeol’s neck, eyes closing and breathing in. He opens his eyes after a moment when he feels Chanyeol press back against him.

“I’ll get you some books tomorrow?” Yifan offers, voice significantly lower and softer than the tone he uses with his employees and subordinates. Chanyeol’s mentioned about not needing gifts, and it’s not like Yifan’s forgotten. That was why he’s stopped buying Chanyeol gifts, anyway. But Chanyeol has been into Neil Gaiman lately, and Yifan wants to pamper him.

Chanyeol pulls away only slightly to turn his face towards Yifan, eyes warm and dimple flashing before he leans in to press a chaste kiss against Yifan’s lips. “Nah. I still have plenty to read,” Chanyeol tells him, turning back to the opened book on his lap and pressing back against Yifan. Yifan tightens his grip around Chanyeol and breathes in his scent. “Aren’t you tired?” Chanyeol asks, eyes on his book and body warm against Yifan.

“A little,” Yifan hums into his neck, pressing a soft kiss on the skin. “Read for me?”

Chanyeol reaches under his book to take Yifan’s hand in his, fingers slipping easily into Yifan’s longer ones. He flips to the next page with his other hand and starts reading, voice familiar and calming in Yifan’s ears.

“ _Those that men call Werewolves or Lycanthropes call themselves the Hounds of God, as they claim their transformation is a gift from their creator, and they repay the gift with their tenacity, for they will pursue an evildoer to the very gates of Hell…_ ”

 

-

 

**Zitao/Jongdae**

_Peel the scars from off my back_  
_I don’t need them anymore_

The air in the enclosed room is stale, the small window high up the door the only passage for circulation and light to seep through. Zitao is used to this, used to the cold prickling against his skin and the dry ache in his throat, used to the angry rumble of his empty stomach, used to sitting in the far corner as he waits for the other to slip into the room and bury Zitao in his warmth.

After all, all Zitao does everyday is wait.

Zitao only looks away from the floor when the door cracks open just enough for Jongdae to slip in, a soft smile instantly tugging at his lips. From the other side of the door, a lock sounds and Zitao opens his arms as Jongdae limps into his embrace, limbs weak as he lies on Zitao’s lap and wraps his arms around Zitao.

This is what Zitao waits for everyday, to bury his nose into Jongdae’s hair and inhale, the scent soothing and familiar. This is what Zitao looks forward to as the sun moves west and meals are skipped and glasses of water are left unattended.

Jongdae rests his head against Zitao’s shoulder, nose pressing into the crook of his collarbone and breath warm against skin. There are new bruises on Jongdae’s skin, blue and purple visibly painting thighs and the span of his back in gashes and painful marks. Zitao eyes the red imprints of fingers covering patches of Jongdae’s neck, and it only takes built up possessiveness and guilt for him to lean in and make gentle licks at the fresh wounds, tongue rough as it laps at sensitive skin.

In his arms, Jongdae whines, and Zitao feels him slip his tail between Zitao and the wall to circle around Zitao’s hips in a secure grip, tail brushing against Zitao’s own.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Zitao says, kissing the jaw and Jongdae sighs.

It hurts, dull blows stabbing at his heart and making it ache even more as Jongdae curls into him, whimpering and skin covered in fatigue and gushes of pain.

“Did you eat?” is pressed into his neck, voice trembling yet it’s the only voice Zitao never fails to yearn for.

It didn’t used to be like this, and he doesn’t know how Jongdae becomes the only one being dragged out and forced to work and please as Zitao stays under the cold roof of the shelter.

“Did you?” Zitao questions him in return.

“No,” Jongdae says, voice soft as Zitao reaches up to run his fingers up soft locks, Jongdae leaning into the touch when Zitao gently rubs behind his ear, careful not to upset the hairless patch on his ear where a fresh scratch once laid. It’s nearly healed.

It should have been Zitao receiving all the pain in Jongdae’s place. At least then, they used to share the bruises, nights spent cuddling and melding into each other as Jongdae mends him and he Jongdae. Now, Jongdae has to suffer for Zitao’s share in addition to his. They could have rented Zitao instead, but no one wants him.

No one wants hybrid sex slaves that don’t behave. Jongdae is only ever too weak to fight back.

“Zitao?”

“Hm?” he hums back, hand enveloping and holding close.

Jongdae is quiet for a moment, fingers gripping at the back of Zitao’s shirt, then, “Will we be okay?”

No. Maybe. I don’t know. So many answers, so little possibilities.

Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

“Yes.”

 

-

 

**Yixing/Lu Han**

_Here, beneath my lungs_  
_I feel your thumbs_  
_Press into my skin again_

The two almost stumble down as they force themselves through the front door at the same time, Lu Han staying behind only to close and lock the door as Yixing steps out of his shoes. Yixing bends down to place his shoes in the drawer and Lu Han places a hand on Yixing’s shoulder as he toes off his own shoes and lightly kicks it towards Yixing so the latter can put them into the drawer.

Yixing laughs playfully and bats Lu Han’s hand away from where it’s purposely giving weight on his shoulder. “Am I your personal assistant now? Who puts away your shoes and acts as a human post for your hand?” Yixing teases, straightening himself up and stepping into the living room.

“You deserve it,” Lu Han tells him, punching Yixing on the ribs jokingly as they drop unceremoniously onto the couch, Lu Han struggling his way on top of Yixing. “For all the things you told the kids earlier today,” Lu Han says, sitting up and arranging Yixing so the latter has his back against the backrest, Lu Han on his lap.

It’s been a busy day earlier at the daycare, what with two of the staff having a sick leave, involuntarily dumping their tasks on Lu Han. Back aching from where he’s hunched down to clean up bits of food from under the table before handling some kids who had to go to the toilet right after one another, Lu Han hit at his stiff back as he walked out of the bathroom only to find Yixing sitting in one of the comfortable bean bags and surrounded by kids laughing at his stupid act.

Lu Han had come up to him, jaw slacked, because Yixing was copying Lu Han’s “ugly laughing face”. He’d raised an eyebrow at Yixing as the latter laughed his ass off, only to repeat the expression on his face that Lu Han definitely did not approve to be his own default laughing expression. Good thing Yixing had actually looked really cute, or Lu Han would have punched him right on the face.

Now, Lu Han looks at Yixing who is laughing softly with a handsome dimple on his face, and Lu Han thinks he still won’t punch Yixing even if Yixing does it again the next day. “I’m going to make you pay for it,” Lu Han threatens him, palms resting above Yixing’s hips.

Yixing smiles challengingly and circles his arms around Lu Han’s middle, pulling him close. “With what?”

“This,” Lu Han says before he dives into Yixing’s sensitive neck and blows at it, Yixing immediately cowering away and curling into the couch as Lu Han tickles his sides mercilessly.

Yixing laughs, the sound muffled into the couch as Lu Han presses his face into Yixing’s neck and drinks in the occasional croons that Yixing lets out. A busy day at the daycare had also meant that Lu Han couldn’t have time alone with Yixing. That had frustrated him a lot. So now, as Yixing lies on the couch, defenseless and writhing for Lu Han to touch and explore, Lu Han dips down to press kisses on the dip above Yixing’s collarbone and on the spots where he’s only a little less sensitive.

The laugh has subsided, leaving a lovely string of soft moans as Lu Han pushes Yixing down with his palms on Yixing’s hips. “Tell me you’re sorry,” Lu Han says, voice low, even as he pulls himself up to kiss Yixing on the lips, a slow chaste one that has Yixing’s eyes fluttering close.

“I have my reasons,” Yixing says under his breath, gently brushing Lu Han’s hair back and puffing hot air onto his face.

Lu Han narrows his eyes and pulls away only slightly to make sure Yixing sees the incredulous look on his face. “Tell me,” he says, hands slipping under Yixing’s shirt to caress his sides.

Yixing’s hand cards down Lu Han’s hair to rest at the back of his neck, playing with the hair above it, fingers rubbing on the skin beneath and Lu Han leans into the touch. “The kids like it.”

Lu Han looks at him, and pinches his side. Yixing flinches with a soft chuckle, almost giggling. “So they’re more important than I am to you,” Lu Han concludes, a playful cock on his eyebrow.

When Lu Han moves to dip down on his neck again, Yixing pushes him away with a hand on his shoulder and hurriedly says, “I said reasons. I still have another.”

Lu Han smiles at the handsome grin on Yixing’s face. When he dips a subtle finger into Yixing’s navel, the latter gasps. Lu Han lets his eyes trail on the whole span of Yixing’s face, admiring the beauty of it. “What is it?” he asks.

Yixing’s grin widens, the dimple winking and inviting. “You like it,” Yixing tells him, a playful glint on his eyes even as he bites at his bottom lip nervously, cautious just in case Lu Han decides to launch a second attack.

Lu Han doesn’t, instead lowers down to kiss Yixing. Their lips slide against each other, heated and familiar and pulling in. Yixing responds almost immediately, arching into Lu Han and hooking his arm around Lu Han’s neck to pull him closer. “You’re the worst boyfriend,” Lu Han says in between kisses, hands working their ways to ride Yixing’s shirt up. “My worse half.”

Yixing lifts himself so Lu Han can slide his shirt up. “Well, at least I’m the best _friend_. The better half at that,” he says when he pulls away from the kiss so that Lu Han can pull his shirt off. Yixing helps Lu Han get rid of his own shirt, tossing it to land on Yixing’s discarded one.

Lu Han doesn’t argue, and says, “You are.”

When Lu Han moves rough palms up the exposed skin of Yixing’s front, Yixing shudders and smiles, a proud upwards tilt on his lips that makes a soft smile climb up Lu Han’s face, sincere, a smile he only has on because it’s Yixing. Yixing always has this effect on him – undemanding, content. Happy.

 

-

 

**Jongin/Sehun**

_Sleep don’t visit_  
_So I choke on sun_  
_And the days blur into one_

The night is dark, the moon and stars above the only source of light barely illuminating the area. It’s freezing cold, the foreign air pricking against skin, and quiet, almost eerily quiet, except for the constant hum of grasshoppers and distant owls.

Grassland stretches from both sides of the lone road to the horizon, the shade of dull grey only getting darker as it goes further down the field, shrubs melding into sparse trees melding into denser woods. Sehun sits in the confines of the car, feeling perturbed despite the warmer air inside.

It’s almost midnight, or past midnight, perhaps, Sehun doesn’t really know – they’ve turned the car engine off for somewhere around a couple of hours now, windows rolled down for air circulation, to save fuel to cover the rest of their way to Cornwall when daylight comes. His lids are heavy, mind clouded with drowsiness. Sleep is a good call, but they’ll need to wake up in a few hours, anyway, and Sehun is too unsettled to let his guard down. It’s dark out, but knowing his parents, people have probably started searching by now.

Sehun stirs in the passenger seat, turning to face the driver’s seat where Jongin is sitting with fingers twitching agitatedly on his lap. Jongin returns the gaze, focuses on Sehun, watches Sehun watch him, catches the worry lines on Sehun’s forehead.

“Come here,” he says, voice tired as he shifts to accommodate Sehun into the driver’s seat. It’s inconvenient, the seat too small for two young adults with long, lanky limbs, and they have to cramp into the limited space, but somehow they fit.

They have their arms wrapped around one another, legs tangled and body bent into the embrace. It’s more evident, like this, now that they’re curled into each other. There’s a heavy contrast between Sehun’s Carven tee and the hoodie Jongin’s worn too many times. It sends an ache to Sehun’s chest, one that’s a little lighter than when his parents had lectured him about mingling with the impoverished, but pain is pain. It still hurts. So Sehun hugs Jongin closer, buries himself into Jongin’s chest. Jongin is snug, and the fabric smells like Jongin. Sehun likes it like this.

Sehun concentrates on the pattern of Jongin’s breathing, the rise and fall of his chest. The uneasiness is too heavy for both of them to fall asleep. Jongin is warm, but Sehun is anxious, more than anything. He feels like doing something, talk, maybe, about something. Anything. Like what they’re going to do next, where exactly they’re heading, what’s to become of them. What’s next.

It’s this weird feeling, of wanting to talk but not knowing what about. Jongin beats him to it.

“So when morning comes, we head to Cornwall.” His voice breaks the silence, and Sehun drowns in it for comfort.

Sehun exhales, twists his fingers into the fabric of Jongin’s loose hoodie, out of habit. “Yes.”

They’ve covered the first four hours of the journey, from London. That means an hour or so left to go, if Sehun counts it right. If they leave right at daybreak, they’ll manage to arrive just before the city starts to buzz. It’s not a long way, but the clock’s ticking. Sehun's made sure to pay the family driver both for the car and to zip his mouth up, but it’s only a matter of time until the cops track them down to the old man’s house and find the absence of the beat-up sedan.

Jongin’s nose is pressed into the crown of Sehun’s head, but Sehun can sense Jongin staring into the distance, eyes unfocused, deep in thought. “Then what?”

“Then,” Sehun starts, and thinks of how easy this was the first time he’d thought of it, and how complicated it is now that they’re halfway through the mess. “We get breakfast. I’m hungry.”

Sehun feels the slow ride of Jongin’s soft smile against his hair.

The smile copies itself on Sehun’s face. He adds, “Then, we buy a house by the beach. A small one we can call our own.” Sehun’s brought money, enough to support the two of them while they find small jobs to add into what they’ve got in hand.

Everything is always easier said than done, but Sehun wants to cling to that tiny sliver of hope.

“Buy food at the local grocery store, do laundry, maybe feed seagulls.” At that, Jongin chuckles. “Start anew,” Sehun finishes.

The night is getting colder, wind blowing in through the open windows and sending a chill up Sehun’s arms and the nape of his neck. Sehun tucks his head under Jongin’s chin, brings Jongin closer, and tries not to think of what-ifs – what if the cops find them, what if his parents bring him back to their house, polish him to take over his father’s chair in the company. What if they drag Jongin away from him.

Sehun doesn’t want to go back to his parents’ house. But Jongin – Jongin is home, to Sehun.

Without any light source to aid his sight, Sehun blinks into the darkness, eyes never leaving Jongin’s clothed chest. Jongin has settled into brushing down the back of Sehun’s hair absently, strokes gentle and familiar.

Sehun exhales, heavily. “I love you,” he says, voice barely a whisper, but in the silence of the night, Jongin hears it clearly.

Jongin plants a kiss on Sehun’s hair, and whispers back, “I love you.”

 

-

 

**Baekhyun/Kyungsoo**

_And the backs of my eyes_  
_Hum with things I’ve never done_

Kyungsoo hears Baekhyun’s presence before the door clicks open.

It’s the chiming sound of the wind chimes they’d bought on their honeymoon to Japan, hung in a line down the overhang by the front door. There’s usually barely any wind, the infrequent chiming a soft hum in Kyungsoo’s ears. So when the sound strikes significantly louder, still pleasant in the ears, Kyungsoo smiles at the image of Baekhyun running his fingers across the paper strips hanging down the wind chimes, letting them sound just a bit louder.

He’s home.

The door clicks open, gets locked, shoes shoved into the cupboard, feet shuffling on the wooden floor – noisy, just like Baekhyun. A plastic bag of what smells like convenience store bought food gets dropped onto the dining table before a weary whine sounds and Baekhyun is slipping into Kyungsoo’s personal space, their hips touching.

Baekhyun slips a hand onto Kyungsoo’s, thumb brushing with the ring on Kyungsoo’s finger, before he snatches the washed plate from Kyungsoo’s hand swiftly, reaching out for the small towel and drying it off. “Hey.”

There is a hint of the remnant of Baekhyun’s cologne when Kyungsoo inhales. “You smell,” Kyungsoo tells him. Baekhyun doesn’t, really, but getting him to shower is the only way Kyungsoo can get Baekhyun away from him. It’s been a whole day without Baekhyun and there’s just too much Baekhyun right now and Kyungsoo can’t let himself give in and smother Baekhyun with kisses and let Baekhyun know that he misses him so much. Kyungsoo sideglances at Baekhyun, and says, “Go shower.”

Baekhyun kisses him on the cheek. “Bossy,” he says fondly. Kyungsoo lathers a bowl and lets his lips tug up into a smile, this time. “Enough with the dishwashing, though. We’ve got some sushi to eat,” Baekhyun adds, placing the previous plate in the cabinet and going for the bathroom, but not without subtly patting Kyungsoo by the butt.

Kyungsoo finishes washing the dishes, turns the tap off and places the rest of the washed dishes into the cabinet before making his way towards the plastic bag of sushi on the dining table. He takes the plastic box out and rids the plastic bag into one of the kitchen counter drawers.

This is their Wednesday – Baekhyun getting food on his way home from work. Sometimes, when he’s feeling fancy, he gets pizza or honey chicken wings, though most days he brings home convenience store food. Kyungsoo calls it extremely unhealthy Wednesday. Baekhyun calls it giving Kyungsoo some rest.

When Kyungsoo reaches the living room, a box of sushi and two pairs of chopsticks in his hands, Baekhyun is walking out of their bedroom in a fresh set of sleepwear, face lighting up when their eyes meet. “How do I smell now?” Baekhyun asks, spreading his arms wide apart and looking characteristically smug.

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, just smiles as he places their dinner and chopsticks onto the coffee table before nearing Baekhyun and kissing him softly on the lips. Baekhyun lets his palms rest on Kyungsoo’s arms, holding him in place and rubbing gently before leaning in for another kiss.

“How are the commissioned pieces going?” he asks, nose almost touching Kyungsoo’s.

Kyungsoo leans in, letting the side of their noses touch and ghosting his lips against Baekhyun’s. “I finished one today. Halfway through another.” He kisses Baekhyun, then adds, “How was work?”

“Never as good as being home. Mainly because there’s no you there.” Kyungsoo breaks into an immediate grin at that. He punches Baekhyun lightly. “Let me see that first piece.”

“Why did I marry you?” Kyungsoo ponders outloud even as he steps away and into the bedroom, making his way towards the shelf he stores the typography he’s done for one of the culinary magazines in.

“Because you love me,” Baekhyun half shouts, making sure Kyungsoo hears it clearly, along with the playful overconfidence in it.

When Kyungsoo comes back out, Baekhyun is sitting on the couch, back bent and elbows propped on his knees as he picks at pieces of cucumber from the sushi because he likes his food without the cucumber. Kyungsoo takes his seat on the couch, thigh easily pressing against Baekhyun’s and showing him the paper when the latter looks up.

“Oh. Wow, this is really good,” Baekhyun says, leaning in to take a better look. “How did you make it to look like this?” he asks, amusement apparent in his voice. Kyungsoo had made it look like the words are carved out of moist cookie dough, with colored pencils. It wasn’t a completely smooth process – he’d easily make at least four pieces a day with his usual hand lettering pens – but Baekhyun likes cookies, and Kyungsoo is proud of the reference. Although he's isn’t planning to mention that.

Baekhyun is munching at a cucumberless sushi as he stares at Kyungsoo’s work, the sound of it audibly clear. Noisy eaters aren’t Kyungsoo’s favorite, but this is Baekhyun, and it’s actually pretty endearing, so Kyungsoo lets him be. “I’m doing chopped carrots for the second piece,” Kyungsoo tells him, watching as Baekhyun puts the paper away.

“You’re amazing,” Baekhyun says right before he leans in to kiss Kyungsoo, lips soft when Kyungsoo presses back. “Now eat,” he says right after pulling away only to push in a piece of sushi into Kyungsoo’s mouth. There’s too much mayonnaise and the rice is obviously not seasoned with rice vinegar, but Baekhyun has a soft smile on his face as he watches Kyungsoo chew on his food, so Kyungsoo doesn’t see the need to complain.

They spend the next fifteen minutes finishing dinner, Kyungsoo munching on the cucumbers Baekhyun's picked out and laughing at Baekhyun’s random silly talks, and taking Baekhyun’s hand in his so he can slip their fingers in between each other. If Kyungsoo were asked what he’d imagined of a perfect relationship ten years ago, he’d say having a man he loves who loves him and showers him with new, unimaginable things every single day.

But here they are, doing what they do every single day – kiss, smile at one another, work their asses off, kiss more, eat food, sleep. Eating convenience store food on Wednesdays, having dinner on the couch and never really using the dining table, Kyungsoo waiting for the significantly louder chimes of the wind chimes whenever the clock strikes a little past nine at the end of every weekdays – a routine. Constant.

And with Baekhyun in it, a fixed factor in Kyungsoo’s life, Kyungsoo thinks he doesn’t need anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the book chanyeol was reading is The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman. sekai's story was inspired by a section in the book Numbers by Rachel Ward.


End file.
